


The Pieces that are Sacrificed in Every Game of Chess

by ThatWouldBee_Enough



Series: Virtue is Not a Word I'd Apply to this Situation [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Butt Plugs, Depravity, Dom/sub, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, House Party, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Humiliation, Interns & Internships, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Office Sex, Orgasm Denial, Politics, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Rare Pairings, Secret Relationship, Submission, US Senate, lams but with a different Laurens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWouldBee_Enough/pseuds/ThatWouldBee_Enough
Summary: Alexander was quite certain the senator didn’t actually care much for his views on policy considering it didn’t align with his own agenda. But he did love to watch Alexander squirm through a mundane task. Before he could reach the end of the text though, a loud beep resounded from the speaker atop the senator’s desk. Alexander felt his heart stop beating as the receptionist’s voice rang through from the other end of the line.“Senator Laurens? Your son is here to see you.”The panic rose in Alexander’s throat instant and hot. He glanced over at the senator, still seated calmly behind his desk, face as impassive as ever as he hit the button to respond.--------------------------AKA part 3 of the Alexander/Henry Laurens internship AU that absolutely nobody asked for.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Henry Laurens (1723-1792), Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Virtue is Not a Word I'd Apply to this Situation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887037
Comments: 64
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander had long since realized that his brain didn’t react appropriately to the warning signs that flashed over and over again behind his eyes, like a ringing in his ears drowning out everything else, but which he couldn’t quite find it in himself to respond to. No, his self preservation instincts seemed somehow broken. Sure, they worked well enough in getting him through a rough childhood, off of his tiny island, and into an Ivy League school. But when it came to more pressing, actual danger, well, rather than trigger his flight or fight response, it triggered something else entirely. 

After all, there was clear and present danger in lying on Senator Laurens’s couch in his private office, his pants tugged down around his thighs so his bare ass was exposed to the room, a plug keeping him stretched open, as he propped himself up on his elbows, a lengthy policy proposal opened up in front of him. He had to adjust every couple of minutes to turn the page of the document, the movement only emphasizing his discomfort. But rather than being triggered to run away from this impossibly terrible idea, Alexander’s gut had clenched with arousal at the first implication of the illicit activities. 

“Are you finished with that yet, Alexander?” 

He huffed at the unbothered tone as Senator Laurens looked at him over the top of his laptop screen. 

“Almost done, sir.” The muscles in his thighs involuntarily clenched as he spoke, his body reacting to the reminder that he was being watched, and he could feel the chain reaction of tightening muscles reaching his ass, squeezing around the plug. Couldn’t keep himself composed enough to hold back the soft, undignified mewling noise at the sensation. 

“Good. I want your full thoughts.” 

_Does he though?_

Alexander was quite certain the senator didn’t actually care much for his views on policy considering it didn’t align with the man’s own agenda. But he _did_ love to watch Alexander squirm through a mundane task. Before he could reach the end of the text though, a loud beep resounded from the speaker atop the senator’s desk. Alexander felt his heart stop beating as the receptionist’s voice rang through from the other end of the line. 

“Senator Laurens? Your son is here to see you.” 

The panic rose in Alexander’s throat instant and hot. He glanced over at the senator, still seated calmly behind his desk, face as impassive as ever as he hit the button to respond. “Thank you, Valerie. Tell him I’m finishing up with something, and it’ll be just a moment.” And then he was on his feet, across the room in several strides. He gave a lingering sigh as he stared down at Alexander. 

For Alexander’s part, even as every instinct screamed at him to get up, to cover himself, he remained still. Waited for instructions. Had grown too accustomed to the other man’s whims during the course of their ongoing transgressions to even think about sitting up until he was told to do so. But still, he could feel the seconds ticking away as he laid there, stretched out and exposed in the middle of the private office, and it was sending an uncomfortable tremor of anxiety through him. 

Finally, after what felt like _far_ too long, but in actuality was only a couple of minutes, Senator Laurens tapped the side of his hip, silent permission to break the position he had been holding. He gave a huff of overdue relief and sat up on his knees, cringing as the change in position shifted the plug against the walls of his ass. Tugged up his pants, did up his belt, hastily tucked his shirt back in. Grabbed his jacket from where it had been draped over the back of the couch and shoved his hands back into the sleeves as quickly as he could. Fussed with the collar of his shirt and his tie, trying to ensure everything fell correctly.

“Do you want me to take this back out to the work table, sir?” he asked, motioning down at the binder still open on the couch cushion and doing his best to calm the flush that he could still feel spread over the skin of his face and chest. “I could finish reading it and take down some notes if you’d prefer.”

“No, no. That’s alright, Alexander, you don’t need to leave. I wouldn’t want you straying too far, after all.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine at the implication and swallowed hard. “Sir?”

“Just sit there and mind your work.”

He had no time to argue before the senator was crossing the room, wrenching the door open. Alexander had enough forethought to make a grab for the binder, pull it into his lap to hide any evidence of their misdeeds that couldn’t be quite so easily covered by layers of clothing. As he settled into his new position on the couch, he could feel the plug dig dangerously close to his prostate. Bit his lip against the instinctive whimper threatening to escape and trained his eyes on the page below him. 

“You can’t force me to take poli-sci classes.” 

Alexander kept his head down, even as the brash, loud voice broke through his focus and made it impossible to actually read the document in his lap. 

“It’s nice to see you as well, Jack.” He could hear the familiar note of derisive amusement there even without looking up to catch the expression. 

“Father, I’m serious! Stop trying to meddle in my affairs at school. You have no right. My advisor shouldn’t even be discussing any of it with you. I'm entitled to privacy.” 

Senator Laurens breathed a humorless laugh. “When you start paying your own tuition you can have all the privacy you like. Until then I won’t apologize for making sure you stay on the path that we’ve had planned out for years now.”

It sounded like the senator’s son was about to launch into a counter argument when he made a quieter, surprised noise instead. “Oh, hello. Who are you…?” 

And _oh_ , that must be for him. Alexander glanced up from the binder, just catching the curious gleam in the other boy’s eyes when the senator cut in. 

“That’s my intern, Alexander. Don’t pay him any mind, he’s just finishing something up for me.”

The boy scoffed. “Don’t be so rude.” He crossed over to the couch, peered down at him, and oh– oh shit. He was _cute_. From this angle, he had a much better view of curly hair and freckles. A strong jaw, thick eyelashes. Alexander flushed under the distracting gaze, all too aware of the way he was already pressed uncomfortably to the front of his pants under the binder in his lap. “Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize anyone else was in here. I’m John.” He flashed a warm smile, perfectly straight teeth and a slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes. Alexander knew he should get up, hold out his hand and accept the introduction properly, but that wasn’t exactly a viable option in his current state. He could feel Senator Laurens’s eyes on him like lasers. 

“Nice to meet you,” he muttered, embarrassed at his own reaction, his own lack of goddamn composure. He brought his eyes back down to the binder, not really seeing the words as he tried to avoid drawing further attention to himself.

John didn’t take the hint. Sat down right beside him on the couch and, _jesus christ_ – the way his weight shifted the cushion moved the plug inside of Alexander just enough that it lit up a spark of pleasure along his nerves. He felt his face flush redder as he fought against any sort of audible reaction. “You don’t look familiar,” John said, turning to study his face with that piercing curiosity. A certain flash of intensity that was almost the same as the look in his father’s eyes when– 

_No_. _Don’t go down that road._

“Should I…?”

John gave him a lopsided grin, shrugged. “Guess not. Most of the interns on the Hill are related to someone, that’s all.”

“Ah, sorry to disappoint. I’m just some nobody, John Laurens,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face that he hoped would shield the slight desperation that was still gnawing inside of him from view. 

John snorted, leaning back against the couch as his father turned back to his work, taking a seat behind his desk once again when it was clear his son was distracted from his tirade for the moment. “More of a relief than a disappointment really. I personally wouldn’t mind a little less nepotism in politics.”

Senator Laurens glanced over at that, shot his son an unamused look, but didn’t comment. 

“Where are you from then?”

“Virgin Islands.”

“Which one?” 

Alexander froze up for just a second, the question almost an exact echo of something his father had said that first day, and _shit_ –

_This is all kinds of fucked up._

He pushed the thought aside as best he could. “St. Croix.”

“Oh, have you been to either of the bio bays?” The sudden excitement catching in his voice caught Alexander off guard. 

“I– uh yeah. A few years back I went to one of them.” 

“They’re so _cool_.” He grinned as Alexander cocked an eyebrow in silent question. “My mom’s family's from Puerto Rico. We’d visit the island sometimes when we were younger. Made the trip to St. Croix a few times while we were in the area.” Oh. Shit. Maybe Senator Laurens _hadn’t_ been bluffing when he said he knew where his island was. “I was signed up for this great marine biology course actually for the coming year, but my advisor recently informed me I had been switched out of the class for some reason. Weird, right?” He directed the last bit towards his father, glaring at him across the office. 

He gave a tired sigh without looking up from his screen. “Give it a rest, Jack. You can have more say over your course load once you get all your prerequisites out of the way.”

John just rolled his eyes, sinking back further into the couch. “Again, it’s not _your_ decision to make, father. You legally have no say over which courses I enroll in.”

“I’m not paying your tuition if you’re going to waste it.” There was an air of finality in the words, and John snapped his mouth shut, chewing at his lower lip. 

He stood back up from the couch, and the movement sent another little shock through Alexander’s body, but he was more prepared for it this time, able to brace himself a little better. “Well, I’ve got to make some phone calls, rearrange my class schedule a bit.” The senator shot him a look over his laptop, but refused to take the obvious bait. “Did you want to grab lunch, Alexander? I know a place not too far from here that I like to hit up when I’m by the Hill. I could show you.”

“Oh,” his eyes darted from John’s inquisitive face, over to the senator’s and back. He shifted uncomfortably. “I was probably just going to order something. I have a lot of work to get done here.”

“Nonsense, Alexander.” His eyes shot up to Senator Laurens’s face, the slight smile playing on his lips disconcerting in a way no one would be able to pick up on without more context of the exact nature of their working relationship. “If you’d like to get lunch, go ahead. I’m more than willing to allow you a well-earned break.” Alexander tried to parse out the exact intention of this game. Because it _had_ to be another game. But the senator’s expression was as unreadable as ever, and John was waiting expectantly on an answer, so he shrugged helplessly.

“Sure. That’d be nice. Thank you, sir.” He hoped the manners would win him some points in whatever was coming later. 

“Of course,” Senator Laurens said, glancing back down at his work. “Just be back in an hour or so.” Alexander closed the binder, placing it back down on the coffee table and noting with relief that their short conversation had done enough to flag his troublesome erection. He followed John up off the couch to make his exit, turning back briefly at the door to catch Senator Laurens locking him in an intense, fiery stare. There was promise in his eyes, though for _what_ , Alexander couldn’t exactly say. He felt that familiar chill work its way through him as he closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back folks
> 
> Still shifting a decent portion of the blame for this onto @my_deer_friend
> 
> Leave comments down below! I savor each and every one of them. 
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	2. Chapter 2

“Sorry about that,” John said, though he sounded more chipper than apologetic. “He can be such a pain in the ass.”

_You don’t know the half of it._

The plug shifted a little as they walked out into the hall, and Alexander had to once again swallow down the desperate noise bubbling in his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, though his voice came out more strained than he intended. 

John made a noncommittal hum, something that probably translated to _It’s not, but what can you do?_ “So, how’d you end up working here if it wasn’t because of some family connection?” When Alexander eyed him questioningly, he grinned. “You just don’t seem like, well, I don’t know. Shit, I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions, but… you don’t seem like president of the Young Republicans Club at your college or anything.”

Alexander snorted a laugh as they passed down the large and ostentatious staircase leading down to the main lobby. “You assumed correctly. I want to go into politics. To make the big decisions and actually make a difference,” he explained simply with a shrug. “And I don’t get a ton of opportunities like this one. I couldn’t throw that away, no matter which side of the aisle I’d be working for. I would have preferred a position with one of the Democratic senators of course, but as you mentioned earlier, nepotism runs rampant here and most of the slots were filled before the applications even hit their desks I’m sure. I was actually pretty surprised when your dad’s office called. Apparently the spot opened up pretty last minute, or something? I was already resigned to just spending the summer before school started back on the island up until then.” 

John barked out a laugh, and Alexander turned to stare, unsure what he had said to elicit such a response. “You’re welcome then, because that was my fault.” When Alexander just continued to give him a confused look, he explained. “I was supposed to intern here for the summer. I went behind his back and set up something on my own. A research opportunity out in Bethesda. I didn’t tell him until a week before I was supposed to start, made sure I couldn’t easily be talked out of it.”

“Ah.” Alexander let that new information sit with him for a moment as they stepped out into the streets of DC, walking down sidewalks crowded with the midday lunch rush. He felt the plug shift with every step now, large enough that it was impossible to ignore. He did his best to fend off any rush of arousal at the thought of walking around like this in public. 

It was outside the bounds of his usual games with the senator, and that knowledge was unsettling. He was surprised he let him leave at all, when they had been so certainly headed towards _something_. 

He did his best to shove away _any_ thought of Senator Laurens as he followed John down a side street. John turned to look him over again, now that the pedestrian traffic was a little lighter. “So, what school do you go to?”

“Starting Columbia in the fall.”

“Starting…? Wait, this is your first year?” 

Alexander felt his hackles rise at the question. “Yeah. So what?” 

“Sorry,” he said with a bit of a laugh at the sudden defensiveness. “Didn’t mean to offend you. These internships are competitive, I just assumed if you didn’t get in through family connections that you were already set to graduate with honors or something. I didn’t even know it was allowed to hire kids straight out of high school for the program to be honest.” 

“I have transfer credits equaling a full year,” he admitted, only a little outwardly pleased with himself. “Between AP credits and courses I was able to enroll in through local colleges while I was still in high school.”

“Shit. Strict parents?”

“No parents actually.”

John blinked in surprise, caught off guard. “Sorry.”

Alexander waved it off, slightly uncomfortable at the tone his voice had taken. “Don’t act all pitiful, or I swear to god, I’ll turn back and eat lunch in the office.”

John smirked at the words. “Got it. So, you _chose_ to have no life as a teenager then.”

“Not all of us have parents paying our college tuition.”

Alexander watched as he glanced up at the sky, let out a soft exhale. “Fair.” 

“You don’t want to go into politics, though?” he asked, remembering the string of conversation from earlier as they turned down another street. 

John made a face, his voice a little softer now that he wasn’t riled up by his dad’s presence. “No. My father always assumed I would. Out of convenience I guess? Tradition? First born child syndrome? Something like that. But I’d rather do literally anything else. I really like science, medicine, all that. My mom encouraged all of it, but when she got sick it got harder and harder to convince my father I wasn’t going into the family business with him.”

Alexander pieced together enough of the story, knew vaguely that Senator Laurens had lost his wife at some point. “Sorry about your mom.”

“Mmm thanks. But if I can’t pity you, you can’t pity me. Two way street.” 

He could feel the grin spread on his face in spite of himself. “Alright, alright, fine. So, where do you go to school?”

“Georgetown.”

Alexander let out a low whistle. “Damn. So you’re smart.”

“You’re going to Columbia,” John pointed out with a startled laugh. 

“I didn’t say you’re smarter than me.” Their gazes locked for a moment and there was that intensity again, a little bit too much like his father’s. Alexander felt his throat go dry. “Just, Georgetown is a good school.”

“Yes, well. My father wanted me close by.” He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Easier to keep tabs on me this way I guess. Not that I make it easy for him,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

A snort escaped Alexander as John stopped and held open the door to a small cafe style eatery. “And what, pray tell, does that mean?” 

“If it were up to him, I’d be home every weekend spending time with the family. But I’d rather spend my weekends… otherwise occupied. Expanding my horizons outside of my good southern upbringing if you will.”

The admission sent another grin to Alexander’s face, and he couldn’t help but start to fit some of these pieces together with the little snippets he had seen of Senator Laurens’s relationship with his son. “Hate to break it to you, but the kid of a politician growing up and rebelling against the strict limitations of his childhood is a bit of a cliche. Don’t tell me you’re out picking up girls at the club every night?”

“Close, but not quite.”

His mind started trying to parse out that vague correction, but then they were at the front of the line, and Alexander was forced to focus his attention on the pretty blonde behind the counter instead as she and John exchanged polite greetings. “I’ll have a number ten combo with an iced latte.” He waited for her to input the order into the computer. “And then, whatever my friend here is having.” 

Caught off guard, he fumbled for a moment, feeling increasingly self conscious as the girl waited for his order. “You don’t have to do that, I have enough.”

“Alexander, I’m highly aware that the pay at your internship is absolute shit. Consider it my father’s treat, since I’m sure he’s getting more work out of you than he’s paying you for.” 

And Alexander couldn’t explain to John the reason his face turned red at that. He only hoped he’d chalk it up to embarrassment at being called out on his shitty wages. He rambled off his order to the girl behind the counter and thanked John as they stepped over to wait in the area to the side of the counter, watching people file in and out of the small cafe. 

“Don’t thank me. It’s not like I did anything to earn this,” he pointed out, brandishing the card he had used to pay in one hand and grimacing a little bit. “I’m serious by the way, you’re getting scammed out of your worth taking that internship. They get away with paying people as little as they possibly can and then demand as much as they’re able from you.”

“I mean, unpaid internships are a thing. You know that right? It could be worse.” He tapped his fingers against the counter. He felt more like he was defending himself, his own choices, than the Senate internship program. “Also, I need the experience if I’m going to get anywhere in this field, and I don’t plan on spending a full four years at Columbia so I’d rather get as much work in as possible before I graduate.”

“Ah, going to graduate a year early?”

“Two years early if all goes to plan.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Only one way to find out.”

John flashed a smile, all teeth and dimples, and– _shit shit shit no don’t do this._ “It’s too bad I try my hardest to avoid the Hill nowadays. I’m enjoying getting to know you, Alexander.” He leaned against the counter, the muscles in his forearm tensing a little with the movement, and _damn_ he looked good. 

“Yeah?” _Shit._ Alexander felt his cheeks go pink again, and _dammit_ he was normally better at flirting than _this_ but he was exceedingly distracted by the fact that he had been carrying on an illicit affair with this particular guy’s father, _his own boss_ , and by the press of the plug still shoved up his ass. The plug that had been put inside him that morning _by John’s father._

But John didn’t know any of that of course, and Alexander wasn’t about to tell him. 

If anything, John seemed charmed by his blushing and one-worded response.

 _A preference he picked up from his father no doubt._

“Bethesda isn’t far though. If you’d be interested in meeting up every now and again while you’re in DC, well, I could be convinced to make the drive.” 

_Say no. Just pretend you’re not interested. This is the worst possible idea. You can’t say yes just because he’s hot and has a nice smile and–_

“I could be interested.”

His heart nearly stopped beating as John’s smile widened, and the muscles low in his gut tightened, which made his ass clench around the plug, which sent yet another rush of blood to his cheeks. And to other places. 

He was distracted enough that he didn't realize their food was ready until John was passing him a paper bag with his order inside. “Want to grab a table? I’m just going to get some napkins and utensils.” 

He blinked once, twice. Trying to clear his head. “Yeah, sure.” Scoped out a small table along the back wall that looked like it had been recently wiped down. Pulled out his phone to check his emails while he waited only to see a message notification on the screen. 

_HL: Remember, be back from lunch in time to get those notes ready for my 1:30 meeting._

He stared at the screen blankly. He didn’t _have_ a 1:30 meeting. 

_But–_

Senator Laurens was extraordinarily thorough in making sure nothing they did was traceable. No evidence. No proof besides an ache between Alexander’s thighs occasionally. Never texted him anything incriminating. He was still staring when John returned to the table. “So, when do you get off work?” 

He shrugged and quickly placed his phone face down on the table. It wasn’t a question he had ever really cared enough to have a solid answer to. The only plans he ever had in this city were, after all, those arranged by the senator, and obviously he never needed to ask when Alexander was free. 

But John’s smirk was knowing, though not quite as _knowing_ as he probably thought. “You just work until someone kicks you out for the day then?”

Another shrug. “I don’t have much else to do to be completely honest. Not like I have friends here. And besides, I don’t mind the work. I like to keep busy.”

“There are other ways to keep busy.” _Jesus christ_ , the suggestion in his voice, in the glance he gave across the table. 

Alexander shifted in his seat, his awareness of the plug shooting back from his periphery to the forefront. Took a steadying breath. “Doesn’t sound like something the son of a senator who ran on traditional family values bullshit should be saying.” Quirked his lips into a smirk. Hoped the mild panic underneath wasn’t showing through.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid two years off at school outside of my father’s direct sphere of influence must have just completely corrupted me.”

_Funny, his sphere of influence seems to have the opposite effect on me. I’ve never felt quite as corrupted as I do in that office, down on my knees–_

“Do you have a fake?”

His eyes widened, and he was distinctly aware he was showing his hand a little more than he wanted. “What? Like a fake ID?” 

“So, I’ll take that as a no.”

His arms came up to cross over his chest in a defensive position. “I’m not looking to get fired and sent back to St. Croix before the summer’s over, alright? _Besides_ , drinking age on the island is eighteen, so it’s not like I would have needed a fake ID to go out back home anyway.” It was true, even though he never really _did_ go out back home. He had always been more preoccupied with studying, keeping his grades up, keeping busy. Getting off of the island. Getting drunk off his ass didn’t seem to lend particularly well to that goal. 

John just laughed, which made Alexander bite his tongue, holding back a retort. “That’s fine. Just limits our options a little bit, but it’s Friday. Pretty sure I can find something less… official. Where your sad little ID won’t matter.” 

“How helpful.”

“Aw, hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” His foot brushed up against Alexander’s ankle under the table, and he could almost believe it was an accident, but then he didn’t pull back. Left his leg too close, their calves touching just barely. Alexander flinched in surprise at the contact, but didn’t move away either. _You should. This is all sorts of fucked up._ “It’ll be fun. And if you’re spending so much time shut into that suffocating office with my father, then you definitely need a night of fun.” 

“Mmm, I suppose,” he said, not wanting to go down the path of whether any of his nights late in the office with Senator Laurens would constitute a night of fun in John’s book. _Would probably just make him sick to his stomach._ “So, what sort of less official events do you have in mind?”

“Ever been to a house party?”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “ _Yes_. I’m eighteen, not twelve.”

“Ever been to a house party in DC with a bunch of kids who all have too much money and strict enough family dynamics that they feel the need to blow said money doing stupid, self-destructive shit far too often?”

And at that, he grinned, feeling significantly more interested. “No, but it sounds like excellent people watching.”

“ _People watching_ ,” John repeated back, incredulous and slightly mocking, shaking his head in disbelief. “If you’re blowing off steam _correctly_ you’ll be doing more participating than watching. Just… stick with me. I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

Alexander’s smile widened, feeling a flirtatious pull creep into his voice. “I think I can do that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander's making a lot of poor life choices
> 
> Leave some thoughts in the comments! 
> 
> Over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Alexander._ ” 

He walked back through the door to the senator’s private office and dropped down onto the couch at 1:35. And _yes_ , some small part of that was intentional. He could have left his lunch date with John a little bit earlier, started the walk back with plenty of time to get to the office early. But exploring the idea of what would happen if he showed up late held a certain amount of ill-advised fascination for him, so he gave into those whims and settled into the decision knowing that the repercussions would at least provide a necessary distraction from all of the other thoughts preoccupying his mind. 

Thoughts like whether it was a smart move to go out with John tonight. John who had been kind and welcoming and friendly. John, whose father regularly had him in the most compromising positions in this office, frequently holding him in place with sturdy hands as he took his fill. John whose eyes were the color of dark amber and whose lips looked so soft and tempting when he was talking to him, leaning forward across the table at lunch. 

Alexander definitely needed a distraction.

“Yes, sir?” He blinked back from where he had slumped into the couch, trying to paint the picture of innocence in wide-eyed features, an unsuspecting tone. 

Left no doubt that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Senator Laurens narrowed his eyes, but then his expression shifted to something resembling woeful disappointment instead. 

The look sent a painful reverberation of panic through Alexander’s heart. Stopped his breath in his chest until he was able to regain his composure enough to remind himself that this was just an _act_. Just another part of the game. 

_He’s not actually disappointed in you. Fuck, calm down._

“Have I not mentioned my distaste for lateness?”

Alexander swallowed thickly, the danger in his tone apparent already. “You have, sir.”

“Did you not receive the message I sent you?” He cocked a cool eyebrow, expectant. 

_Just lie. Tell him you didn’t check your phone. That the message didn’t go through._

“I… did,” he admitted instead as his arousal from earlier began to reignite at the thought of being put in his place. Fidgeted on the couch, tried to get comfortable and was only reminded of the plug. 

“Come here.” 

Alexander pursed his lips, remained stubbornly seated. “Why?” He let his eyes narrow with suspicion while trying to ignore the pounding in his chest.

“Because,” Senator Laurens said slowly, standing from his chair and stalking across the room. “You are acting like a child, Alexander.” He stopped a few feet in front of the couch, staring down at him, the difference in their statures staggering from this angle. “Spoiled, petulant, self-absorbed, disobedient. You’re normally so good for me,” he added with a small shake of his head. 

The words sent a shiver up his spine and he straightened up, biting his lip to keep quiet. 

“What are we going to do with you?” 

“Sir, you didn’t _have_ a 1:30 meeting,” he argued weakly. 

Senator Laurens just gave him an unimpressed look. As if to say, _you knew what it meant_ – and he did. 

“If I tell you to be back here at a certain time, you get back here, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled so softly he wasn’t sure if the other man would hear it. 

“If I tell you to do _anything_ , you do it. Understood, Alexander?”

His cheeks burned, and he felt the plug press against him again as he shifted his seat on the couch. “Yes, sir.” _Anything._ He wondered how far that statement actually went. Just how desperate for this depraved approval was he?

“Very good.” He glanced down at Alexander appraisingly, a smile twitching up at the corner of his lips. “Now stand up for me.” 

He did, feeling shame tug at his chest with how easily he followed the order. All his momentary rebellion washed away with a few words. Like he was a kid again, terrified of doing the wrong thing. Terrified of being a disappointment. Terrified of a million irrational things, yet for some reason he wasn’t terrified of _this_. 

The change in position shifted the plug, and he let out a small whimper at the feeling, heat pooling in his groin as the senator gave a hum of satisfaction. 

Then, without warning, he began moving, slowly circling, until he was standing behind Alexander. 

Alexander, who didn’t dare turn around to keep an eye on the other man. After all, that would be misbehaving, and misbehaving was sure to have consequences. He felt himself stiffen just slightly at the thought of what those consequences could be. 

He flinched as a hand came up to stroke the side of his face, then leaned into the touch, one thumb trailing over his cheekbone, down his jawline, brushing ever so gently over his lower lip. He opened his mouth, expectant, but Senator Laurens just huffed a laugh. “No, no. Not yet, Alexander. But I appreciate how _good_ you’re being now.” He flushed, felt the pull in his lower abdominals as the rush of shameful pride caused his gut to tighten. “You do want to be good for me, don’t you?”

His head was spinning, not quite sure he was capable of answering the question. He nodded, biting at his lower lip again. 

Felt that hand move from where it had been softly trailing underneath his chin back to his hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging so his face was tilted up towards the ceiling. The senator’s voice was hushed but sharp when he spoke. “Your _words_ , Alexander.”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, the pull at his scalp stinging, but he choked out an answer anyway. “Yes, sir. I want to be good for you.” 

“Of course you do.”

Alexander let out a soft whine when the grip didn’t release. Didn’t even loosen. 

“Tell me then, what did you and Jack talk about at lunch?”

“Uh.” _Fuck._ This seemed like a dangerous topic. On top of that, even amidst everything he let Senator Laurens do to him in this office, every humiliation in which he relished, this felt wrong. To talk about _anyone else_ with that hand so roughly holding him in place felt like a sort of betrayal, but more than that this was _his son_. The senator’s son who was kind and attractive and who Alexander was pretty sure was at least a little bit into him. He tried to reach back through his mind for something innocent enough to latch onto, afraid of what sort of reaction he’d get from admitting the two of them had been flirting. “School.”

The other hand dipped around to his front, resting lightly at the spot where Alexander’s thigh met his hip, and the small bit of contact sent another sharp pang through him, made him twitch the tiniest bit forward into the touch desperate for contact. “Just school? You were out a long time. You must have talked about more than that.”

“He– ah–” He bit back a groan as fingers inched just barely inward towards his lap, then back to his hip. _Fuck it._ “Invited me out to a party tonight.” 

Alexander couldn’t see the man’s face from where he was angled, but he heard a short, quiet laugh. Like he was either surprised or amused. Maybe both. 

“And did you accept his invitation?” His voice was low, and Alexander couldn’t pick out the exact tone. His stomach twisted with nerves. 

He swallowed. Hard. “Yes, sir.”

A hum of consideration from behind him as those fingers inched in closer to his groin again. “And what if I keep you here working all night, Alexander?”

“Then I’ll have to tell him his father’s a sadistic bastard who won’t let me leave.”

A sharp tug, stinging at his scalp. “Watch that mouth of yours.” He relented a moment later, just as the tears were starting to gather in Alexander’s eyes, letting go of the fist in his hair entirely. Alexander rolled his neck back and forth a few times, trying to relax tense muscles, all the while keeping half of his attention on the hand at his hip. “No need to worry though, my boy. I do think you deserve a night off. It may even do you some good. You seem far too stressed lately.”

He made a noncommittal noise at that. Yes, _of course_ he was stressed. He was constantly working long hours, and on top of that, the senator put him in frequent situations in which the risk of getting caught would play on loop through the part of his mind most attuned to danger. The man knew he was consistently wound tight, worried for his own burgeoning career and reputation and _dignity_. “Thank you, sir,” he added, cautious, unsure of what exactly he expected here. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and thank me properly.”

 _Oh. So_ that’s _what was expected._

He felt the desire coil tight in his stomach again as he dropped to his knees on the carpet. “Did you get through the policy proposal this morning before we were interrupted, Alexander?”

Stifling his groan of frustration, he took a steadying breath before responding. “Just about, sir. I was on the last couple of pages.” 

Senator Laurens looked down at him, gave a deep sigh and a disapproving shake of his head. “If you had _focused_ on your work earlier you would have finished it before you left. So undisciplined.”

Alexander bit his tongue. As much as he wanted to defend himself against the implication that he was _ever_ undisciplined when it came to his work, he knew well enough by now that arguing would get him nowhere in this entanglement. He kept his lips tightly shut as he watched the senator cross back to his desk and pick up the sleek black binder. He dropped it heavily on the coffee table, only about a foot away from where Alexander was kneeling. 

When Alexander just stared back up at him the senator gave him an exasperated look. “Well? Go on, finish up the reading.” 

Considering his next move, weighing what was expected, what would keep him in a favorable light for the time being, he shuffled forward on his knees, settled in front of the coffee table and opened to where he had left off. He only got about one sentence in when Senator Laurens nudged the binder farther across the tabletop. “Brace yourself here, my boy,” he ordered lightly, tapping on the wooden surface. 

Alexander lifted himself up on his knees, let his body weight rest heavily on his forearms as he bent forward, making sure the words on the page were still clearly visible. Unsure exactly where he left off, he started on the second to last page, biting down on his lip to avoid making noise as he felt the senator drop down beside him, reaching around to unfasten his belt, his pants, drag them down his thighs. Gave an involuntary shiver as one hand came to trace light fingers over the swell of his ass, still covered by a layer of soft fabric. 

“Focus on your reading, Alexander.” The chiding reminder forced him to swallow down a noise of protest and do his best to ignore the touch, difficult as it was. He tried to drown out the sensation as he felt fingers slip underneath the elastic and tug his boxer briefs down as well with dull, aggravating words about some plan for irresponsible tax breaks. 

He jerked in surprise when a hand was suddenly on him again, more firm this time, pressing the base of the plug so it shifted and dragged up against his insides, sending sparks through his body. Couldn’t help the low whimper as he dropped down more heavily onto his arms. 

“How much of that do you have left, my boy?” He ran a possessive hand over Alexander’s backside, causing him to flinch and involuntarily clench a little harder around the plug. 

Alexander took a shaky breath, glanced down at the binder again and tried to keep his voice even. “About half a page, sir.”

“Well, hurry up then. I don’t have all day to tend to you. I'm a very busy man after all.” Alexander bit his lip against a groan as pleasure mingled with discomfort when he pressed at the base of the plug again. He let up enough that the words on the page came into focus again, and Alexander used the slight reprieve to read through the rest of the document as quick as he was able, reaching the end with only a few more distracting presses of the plug against his ass. Closed the binder, loudly, and peered back over his shoulder. 

Senator Laurens was watching him, his expression hungry, one hand still resting on the base of the plug. “Any critiques you would like to share, Alexander?” There was a certain mirth behind the cool composure as he watched Alexander war with himself, fighting between the desire to speak his mind and the desire to reach a satisfying end to this round of their game. 

“No, sir.”

“Oh, come now. You must have _some_ thoughts. You always do after all.”

_He’s goading you. Don’t give in._

Alexander chewed the inside of his cheek and let out another shaky breath. “No, sir. It’s fine as is.” He couldn’t help speaking the words through gritted teeth, hyper aware of how much of a lie they were. 

The senator let out a short laugh. “Now you’re learning, my boy. Give the answer that gets you what you want, not the answer that you want to give. Such a shame you’re only here for the summer. There’s so much I could teach you.”

His face flushed at that, and he ducked it down between his arms as he felt those hands move again, drifting to his hips, massaging a small circle with his thumb into the skin. The other hand moved closer, around to his front, fingers brushing along the front of his thigh. The contact was too much. He twitched his hips forwards, biting down on a quiet moan as he pressed his forehead into the table. 

“Do you need me to touch you, Alexander?” 

He swallowed hard, feeling his chest tighten with desperation. _Yes._ Of course he needed to be touched. They had started this _hours ago_ now, and the brief break for lunch wasn’t nearly long enough to let that fire die down completely. But the question felt wrong. After all, Senator Laurens didn’t offer him assistance out of the kindness of his heart. He took what he pleased, _gave_ what he pleased, and Alexander accepted it because it calmed some unexplainable need inside of him. 

Regardless, he couldn’t think of another good way to answer the question, even if it felt like a trap. Took a shaky breath and turned back over his shoulder again, doing his best to keep his voice level, even when it came out a little bit too high. “Yes, sir.”

Felt the heat in his face as the senator’s grin twisted into an amused smirk. “I’ll give you a choice then, my boy.” Alexander’s blood turned cold, even as the arousal continued to burn in his groin. Knew any choice offered now, when he was keyed up and desperate, would not be easy or satisfying in its conclusion. “I’m sure you’re exhausted after being constantly reminded of your _urges_ all morning.” He gave a firm squeeze to Alexander’s ass, and he felt himself involuntarily clench around the plug again. _Fuck._ He needed _more_ than this. Needed to be touched. Needed to calm the racing blood under his skin and the pounding of his heart. “So, I’ll let you choose– do you want to come, Alexander, or do you want the plug out?” 

He froze, feeling the blood drain from his face even as it contradictorily burned under the man’s gaze. His mind churned, knowing he didn’t have long to make the decision. Senator Laurens actually _did_ have a meeting in fifteen minutes now, and Alexander had no doubt that if he didn’t make a decision he would be denied both. And, _fuck_ , as much as he wanted to come, as much as he needed the relief so that he could focus on the rest of his day and figure out what to do about the evening out with John later, the thought of the plug staying in for the rest of the day promised a more lasting, ever-present sort of torture. He pressed his lips together, muffling the desperate whine as he bucked his hips ineffectually forward again. 

“Alexander,” Senator Laurens repeated, giving him a stern look. “I’m waiting.”

“The plug,” he responded quickly, nearly breathless through the fog in his mind. “Please, sir.”

His lips turned up into a smile that could almost be kind if it weren’t for the precarious situation he had forced Alexander into. “Very well. I hope you know that this means you are not permitted to finish yourself off either. You are not to come _at all_ until I allow it. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Alexander heard the pleased hum behind him as he dipped his head back down to hide his face. “Good boy.” 

Every movement was highlighted now by the twin feelings of need and denial, knowing that every touch further stoking the fire in his belly was bound to end in complete dissatisfaction. He spread his legs wider as the senator nudged at the inside of one thigh, baring himself more completely even as his pants and underwear made it difficult and awkward to do so. 

He keened when he felt the plug press in roughly, digging into his prostate for a few overwhelming seconds, and quickly muffled the noise with his own upper arm, dropping his weight more heavily onto the table. He could feel the tightness in his groin, how hard his cock was between his legs, how dangerously close he was just from this pathetic bit of use. The senator brought one hand down to the inside of his thigh, ensuring he kept his legs spread through the glorious torture, and tugged the plug out, just barely, only to press it back in rougher than before. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind, my boy? You look very flustered,” he said, voice low, dangerous, tempting.

A million curse words flitted silently through his mind, but all he said through gritted teeth was, “No, sir. Please, I want it out. _Please._ ” The last word broke off into a quiet whimper at one last drag against his prostate. 

“Of course. No need to fret, Alexander.” His hand turned gentler, stroking up and down the inside of his leg, a soothing contrast to the more violent hold from a moment before. “Breathe for me.”

He did. A deep, audible inhale. As he let the breath out, slow and controlled as he could manage, he felt Senator Laurens ease the plug out of him, a brief moment of agonizing stretch as the widest part passed his rim, and then, blessedly, he felt his muscles relax. The emptiness was jarring after being so filled all morning, the ache still present, though dulled, now that he was free of the toy. He took a shaky breath, leaning down more fully against the coffee table, feeling some of the tension finally start to seep out of him. Not enough though. How could it be, when he was still so worked up, so goddamn _close_ without even a hand on his cock? 

Senator Laurens stood up behind him. He could hear the movement in the rustle of clothing, the sound of his feet adjusting on the carpet, the quiet sigh from above. “Go on, get dressed, Alexander. I’m sure there’s plenty of work piling up for you since you’ve been ignoring your duties all morning.”

He felt the conflicting pulls of relief and worry. He may have been denied an orgasm, but these encounters didn’t usually end without the senator using him to satisfaction in one way or another. And as much as that was ill-advised here, in the middle of the workday, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that he owed the man something now. As he straightened up, he twisted to get a better look at him. “Sir? Did you want…?” He flushed as he held eye contact, too self conscious to finish the question. He’d know the intent regardless. 

“Your lateness cost us time, my boy, and I have a meeting in just a few minutes.”

“Oh.” Of course. The meeting. He _knew_ that. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice low as he searched through stacks of documents on his desk for the correct meeting materials. “I intend to make proper use of you later, Alexander. Now, get back to work.”

His face felt impossibly hot as he put his clothing to rights, the fabric brushing up against his cock and reminding him just how badly he needed release. He let out one last, quiet whimper as he stood, a desperate noise that the senator ignored entirely. As he made his way towards the door, hoping with all his might that no one looked close enough to notice the state he was in, Senator Laurens stopped him abruptly, calling out his name. 

“Remember my instructions from earlier. You’re not to finish until I allow it.”

“Yes, sir.” He ducked his head and hurried out of the office, face burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back for more I see
> 
> Leave thoughts in the comments!
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	4. Chapter 4

Senator Laurens didn’t call Alexander back into his office until the rest of his staff was starting to head home for the weekend, which meant Alexander wasn’t down on his knees in front of the large, leather desk chair until about quarter to six, which meant he was _still_ on his knees half an hour later when his phone started ringing incessantly in his pocket. It wasn’t until the third round of buzzing started up that the senator stilled him, one hand keeping him in place, wedged deep, with a tight grip at the back of his neck. “Who’s calling?”

Alexander glanced up through his lashes, unsure how to answer. He of course had _no idea_ who was calling, and even if he did, it would be difficult to answer with his mouth stuffed full of cock. He hummed a slightly garbled noise that he hoped was somehow comprehensible as “I don’t know” while the buzzing started up a fourth time. 

He felt the hand fall away, freeing him enough that he could pull off if he wanted. 

He stayed put. 

Waited out the moment of heavy silence as Senator Laurens stared down at him, any emotion beneath the hungry burn in his eyes concealed entirely. Then, “Go ahead, my boy. Check your phone.”

Alexander hesitated, his hands twitching where they rested against his own thighs. This _still_ wasn’t an instruction to vacate his place between the senator’s legs. Without freeing his mouth, he awkwardly shifted his weight on his knees enough to grab his phone out from his pocket, feeling something in his chest clench as he saw the missed calls on the screen from the contact he had just entered that afternoon. _John._ They hadn’t set up an exact time to meet, but Alexander assumed it would be later than this. He may not have a ton of experience, but even he knew parties didn’t exactly start _early_ in the evening.

“Well, who is it?” Impatience was creeping into that controlled, demanding tone now. Alexander felt no desire whatsoever to share that bit of information. He was treading into dangerous waters again, and he’d rather remain in the shallows where he had grown sure enough of his footing. But Senator Laurens was looking down expectantly, the disappointment growing with every second he withheld the answer. Alexander couldn’t quite explain why, but the need to prove he could behave, do what he was told, was winning out over his more rational thoughts. 

He knew it was a risk not to answer out loud, but he took a steadying breath in through his nose and held the screen up for the senator to see instead. Saying John’s name felt almost forbidden here, now. And besides, there was still the matter of the intrusion nudging the back of his throat. His hand trembled just slightly, still too tightly wound, his own arousal back in full force just from being down on his knees, being used. The thought of it sent shame up his spine, but the shame only made his desire burn brighter. A vicious cycle. 

“Ah. Jack.” Senator Laurens carded his fingers absently through Alexander’s hair. “Well, call him back. You boys have plans, after all. It would be rude to keep him waiting.”

Despite the cock inside of him, he shook his head, small panicked movements side to side that made him gag, his throat spasming until he was able to get himself back under control. _He couldn’t._ Not now. Not like this. He would call back when they were done. Make some excuse. There were a million things he could be doing besides _this_ that kept him from answering. 

Giving Alexander a look of utter discontent, Senator Laurens plucked the phone out of his hand before he could react, pressed the callback button, and held it out in silent offer, a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

As his brain caught up with the crushing alarm overwhelming his senses, Alexander sat back on his heels, coughing erratically as he pulled up and off of the senator’s length and then clearing his throat hurriedly, praying that when he tried to speak actual words would come out. 

He snatched the phone back, pressing it to his ear just in time to hear John pick up on the other end of the line. “Hey, Alexander! I was starting to think you were avoiding me.” The teasing tone did nothing to assuage his nerves. 

“Sorry.” He cringed visibly at the rough gravel of his voice, far too aware of the senator’s eyes on him as he spoke. Cleared his throat again. “Just in the middle of something at work still. What’s up?”

“Are you feeling okay?” There was a note of genuine concern there, and Alexander felt the edge of guilt start to close in on him. This was _wrong_. He shouldn’t be dragging the senator’s son into this. He should just keep his distance, cancel their plans. After all, this whole thing was complicated enough already. 

It felt impossible to explain why he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Sore throat. Just–” He fumbled for a minute, trying desperately to grab at any reason for the abused sound of his voice that wasn’t illness or the truth. “Allergies.”

John gave a sympathetic hum on the other end of the line. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat before we head over.” 

“I– okay.” Fuck. _Fuck._ God fucking dammit. It only occurred to him half a second after that he could have lied. Said he already ate. Made any goddamn excuse. 

“Alright, cool, great. So, you’re at the office still?” 

Feeling the panic narrow his scope of existence down to this conversation, his own beating heart, and the senator’s intent gaze, he couldn’t focus enough to be clever. Could only answer with blunt truth. “Yeah.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll head over there, and then we can go get food, alright?” 

He bit his lip, trying to calm the pounding in his chest. “When are you going to be here?”

“Like fifteen– maybe twenty minutes?”

_Fuck._

“Okay, sounds good. You know where to find me. See you soon.”

“Yeah, see you soon, Alexander. Bye!” 

The call ended with a decisive beep, and Alexander put the phone back into his pocket with shaking fingers. Senator Laurens gave him an amused look from where he sat, dark eyes fixed on his. “Well?”

“He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” Alexander said, noting with a hint of bitterness how pathetically small his own voice sounded. 

“You’d better get to work then.” He spread his legs a little wider, and Alexander accepted the invitation with renewed determination, shuffling even closer on his knees, licking his lips and sinking back down onto the waiting cock. Heard a barely audible sigh of pleasure from above him. 

The senator didn’t put his hands back on his head. Didn’t control the pace again at all. Just leaned back in the chair and let Alexander work, staring down, drinking his fill. 

Alexander wished he _would_ take control. Both for the inexplicably blissful feeling that surrender seemed to bring and for the fact that he was sure things would go _quicker_ that way. And they were running dangerously short on time as it was. Alexander did the math in his head. If it took him a minute or two to recover, get to his feet after he was done, and then maybe five minutes to clean up and make himself presentable, well that was about half their window right there. Factoring in any surprises the senator might have in store, and Alexander knew he had no choice but to act quickly. 

He put a hand against the leather seat of the chair for balance– not on the thighs to either side of him, the rules surrounding whether he was allowed to _touch_ during things like this were murky at best, so he did his best to keep his hands to himself unless directed otherwise– took a deep breath, and pressed forward even closer, suppressing his gag reflex as he felt the senator’s cock nudge at the back of his throat. He pulled back, just a bit, then sunk down further, his throat spasming briefly around the length before he retreated again. Alexander tried his best to imitate how this would be playing out if he _did_ have that hand at the back of his head, gripping his hair, forcing him down again and again. He was careful to be loud enough that he would spur Senator Laurens on, but quiet enough not to alert anyone lingering in the office of their activities. A delicate balance that he had gotten incredibly good at managing over the last month or so. 

He had _also_ gotten very good at reading the man’s tells when he was close. Knew he was nearly there by the steadily increasing, yet still impossibly quiet and controlled, gasps and sighs of pleasure, the tensing in the muscles of his thighs, the way his hips shifted just barely as he couldn’t help the subconscious desire to bring himself over edge. Alexander dipped back down, holding his cock in his throat for just a moment longer than before, and letting himself choke just a little bit. It was enough. He felt a rush of relief as the warmth spilt down his throat, pulling up just a bit to make swallowing easier but ensuring he stayed put until the man was entirely spent. Before he could pull off, a hand came down to his face, one thumb tracing the line of his cheek bone. Alexander leaned into the gentle touch, needing so much _more_ , but desperate for anything at that point. He felt a shiver of misplaced anticipation run through his body. “Such a good boy, Alexander. So good for me.”

He hummed a note of gratitude, still unable to say anything with the slowly softening length filling his mouth. Finally, after _far_ too long, the senator tapped his cheek twice. Alexander got the hint, carefully withdrawing, sucking in his first truly complete breath since he got off the phone with John. 

John, who would be there any minute. 

Alexander felt the panic well up again. “What time is it?” he asked through the rough, rasp of his throat. _Fuck._ He sounded absolutely wrecked. 

The senator took his time checking his watch. “Just a little bit after six thirty.”

 _Fuck._ “I need to clean up.” He could hear the desperation in his own voice as he said it. 

“Just another minute, my boy. I do love to look at you like this.” 

He felt his cheeks flame with the words, under the careful, taunting attention. He shifted on his knees, squirming, restless energy. His cock twitched as the senator brushed his thumb lightly against his lower lip. “ _Sir_ ,” he pleaded. “Please–”

He cut himself off at the sound of a knock on the door, the itch to jump to his feet only held at bay by the weight of Senator Laurens’s stare. “Alright,” he said quietly, as if the word pained him. “Go clean up.” 

Alexander got up as quickly and quietly as he was able, grabbing a few scattered pieces of clothing– his tie, jacket, a hair elastic that had been discarded on the desk– and ducked into the attached private bathroom. Not a moment after the door was securely closed behind him, he heard Senator Laurens call out a much louder, “Come in.”

Looking in the gold-rimmed mirror above the sink, Alexander cringed. His hair was a mess, lips swollen, dried spit on his face, red flush covering his cheeks and creeping down his neck. He chanced looking down at the rest of his body, and there was an obvious wrinkle in his slacks around the knees. He ran warm a hand over his face, now able to hear John’s voice through the walls, and felt that panic surface again. Tried in vain to smooth out his pants, then mostly gave up on the effort as he grew frustrated with the lack of any noticeable improvement. Turned on the cold water instead, splashing some over his face, dampening a paper and dabbing it at his neck. Feeling cooler, even if the red hadn’t completely faded yet, he combed his fingers quickly through his hair, tugging out any tangles and tying it back. Worked at his tie next, doing up his top button and forming a quick knot with practiced movements, and then tugged on his suit jacket. He gave himself a final glance in the mirror, and this time the image staring back at him looked significantly _less_ like he had just been blowing a US senator. His face was still a little pink, his lips still swollen, but since there was nothing he could do to alleviate those issues in the immediate future, he took one last breath and twisted the doorknob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not at all sorry for this. 
> 
> Leave comments down below <3 It's my birthday, so consider it a birthday gift!
> 
> I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	5. Chapter 5

Alexander had only been to two house parties in his life up until that point. Both with his friend Neddy back on St. Croix who had practically dragged him away from his books and his studies and his writing. After Alexander had received his acceptance letter to Columbia, Neddy had impressed upon him that he absolutely _had_ to go out and celebrate. Told him it would be a _learning opportunity_. That if he was going off to college in New York City of all places, he would need to familiarize himself with loud, obnoxious kids getting drunk and making fools of themselves. Still, back home Alexander had kept his own drinking to a minimum, content to talk and flirt and impress the other guests while keeping his own senses about him. But even the house parties thrown by the rich kids whose parents owned resorts back on the island couldn’t prepare him for _this_.

The large, intricate brick house in the Kalorama neighborhood was packed to a point that made it near impossible to move. As soon as John led him across the threshold, Alexander’s ears were assaulted by loud bass and fast, club-like music, the vibrations from the speakers seeming to bring the space alive with a physical energy. John waved and greeted a few people in passing as the crowd began to suck them in, away from the door and into the fold of bodies. 

Alexander had shed his suit jacket and tie once again, and had swapped out his shirt for a slightly less formal one John had tossed at him in the car on the ride over. Looking around, assessing the rest of the party guests, he felt both over and under-dressed at the same time. Of course he was still in his work slacks and shoes, but even dressed down, most of the other guests at the party were almost certainly wearing designer labels, clothes that he couldn’t even dream of purchasing with his subpar paycheck. 

He felt a hand grasp his own, John tugging him through the crowd. The simple contact sent heat to his cheeks, flustered all the more when he considered the contrast with the much less innocent activities he had been partaking in just moments before he left the office. He allowed himself to be guided, glancing around as they passed through what had to be a sitting room under normal circumstances. Even with the furniture all pushed out of the way, the lights turned down impossibly low, the press of bodies in every inch of available space, he could still make out the grandeur underneath it all. Trying to parse out how much the contents of this room alone would cost made his head spin, and he felt a sharp pang of secondhand concern for how many drinks were sitting around on various surfaces, just one wrong drunken misstep away from being spilled all over ridiculously expensive tables and rugs. 

He followed John through one last tightly-packed group of people before spilling over into the kitchen. Alexander felt a touch of regret as his hand was released, no excuse now that the space was more open, easier to maneuver. He couldn’t quite tell if John had been to this house for a party before or if it was just a show of confidence, how sure he seemed of where he was going, but either way, it was reassuring as he followed along to feel like _someone_ knew what they were doing here. Alexander certainly didn’t. He watched with quiet contentment as John began sorting through bottles on the kitchen counter, pulling a couple of solo cups from the stack next to them. People filtered in and out of the room as John poured them both drinks, the kitchen seeming to be more of a transient space than the rest of the house. The relative lack of people allowed Alexander to more easily take in stone counters and top-of-the-line appliances, large windows overlooking the back of the property. He wondered which uptight old politician’s house he was in right now, but it felt wrong to actually discuss politics here while everyone was laughing and dancing and sloppily stumbling around, so he kept the question to himself as John pushed a cup into his hand. 

“Drink.”

Alexander raised one eyebrow, more amused than suspicious. “Pretty sure accepting cups of unknown substances is at the top of the list of things _not to do_ at a party.” 

John flashed a teasing smile. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Alexander.” He took a sip, then considered. “Well, nothing you didn’t _want_ me to do at least.” He gave a subtle wink before turning back towards the other room, leaving Alexander to follow, his mind still trying to catch up with the very clear innuendo. Well, if he had any doubts about John’s intentions for the night, they were thrown out the window now. 

It was hard to focus on staying present as he wound his way through partygoers when he was still so on edge from earlier in the day. Of course, he hadn’t come at all after all of the tormenting buildup, and the simple knowledge of that fact, of how much he _needed_ it was still crystal clear in his mind. He would probably do downright stupid things to get a hand on his cock right now. But…

_But the senator said you can’t come. Not until he allows it._

Fuck. Alexander stuck close as he followed John through the crowd, a step behind him, appreciating the way his khakis hugged the curve of his ass as he walked. Took a sip of his drink as they moved and let out a little surprised noise. It was _good_. He couldn’t tell what was in it, but the sharp sting he remembered from drinks back home was covered up with sweeter flavors, allowing the mouthful to slide down his throat far more smoothly. Swallowing _anything_ was a bit of a challenge with the way his throat was still throbbing from the rough use earlier, but this wasn’t too bad. He took another, longer sip. Maybe if he had enough he’d forget about the ache entirely. 

He barely noticed as they passed through the first room into another, impossibly more crowded, space. The music was louder here, the entire center of the room cleared of furniture and other unnecessary things to form a sort of makeshift dance floor where bodies were pressed uncomfortably close, moving out of time to an energetic beat blaring from the speakers. 

“Dance with me?” John asked with an alluring grin, turning to look at Alexander, and then back towards the mass of people in the center of the room. 

“I’m going to need more than one drink to join in with all _that_ ,” he admitted with a soft breath of laughter, lifting the cup to his lips again. 

“Mmm that can be arranged.” John glanced around the room, scoping out the space. “Here, let’s sit in the meantime.” He eyed a couple of couches pushed into the corner, waiting for a response this time, his gaze just a little too heated.

“Yeah, sure.” Alexander led the way now, needing to break eye contact and move and just do _something_ because he could feel how this was going to play out already, and he couldn’t help the shame that crept up his spine at how wrong it was, allowing the senator’s son to seduce him after everything that had gone on that day. After everything that had been going on over the course of his internship. He wove through a few larger groups lingering at the edge of the room, dropping down onto the unoccupied of the two couches, avoiding eye contact with the guests on the other, but they weren’t paying him any mind anyway. A moment later and John sat next to him, throwing an arm over the back of the seat, just barely brushing Alexander’s shoulder with his fingers in a way that made it impossible to tell whether it was accidental. 

“You look tired,” he commented lightly. “Was work that bad after you got back? I almost feel bad for dragging you away for lunch considering how late you ended up staying.”

“Oh, uh.” He thought back to the reason _why_ he was there so late– a brief flash of a memory, the senator’s cock deep in his throat– and felt the heat rise in his face again. Was glad in that moment for the relative darkness of the room, lit mostly by colored party lights that did little to actually help anyone see clearly. “No, it was fine, really. Any night I’m not there past seven is pretty good for me. Things just come up throughout the day, you know?” 

“Jesus.” John shook his head, a mixture of impressed and disbelieving. “He really doesn’t deserve that much work ethic from you, trust me.” 

“I told you before, I don’t mind the work,” he countered, defensive starting to prick at him, leaning into the armrest and taking another sip of his drink. He was surprised to find it was already more than half empty. 

A responding laugh from John only served to make him glare down at his cup. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Your insistence on that point is only making me want to _really_ make sure you let loose tonight. You need to relax, have some fun. Live while you’re young and all that.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, but didn’t flinch away when John dropped his hand lower, lightly rubbing at his upper arm. The casual intimacy felt good. Nice. He could tell John was testing the waters, contradictorily confident and hesitant as he felt out the situation.

It was a stark contrast to his father’s tendency to take without asking, quiet yet powerful commands. Calculated moves designed to keep Alexander on edge and desperate for more. Perhaps those things should have sent him running by now, but the blatant disregard for his own wants was what drew him in, what kept him coming back, what kept his stomach twisted in knots which only released when he was down on his knees or bent over some piece of furniture. 

Still, he couldn’t deny that this felt _nice_ if not quite as alluring, so he let out a quiet sigh and leaned just barely into the touch. Took another sip of his drink. “And what did you have in mind to accomplish all that?”

John smirked. “I have a few ideas. Are you almost done with that?” he asked, pointedly glancing down at Alexander’s drink before finishing off his own in one gulp. As a response, Alexander followed suit, tipping the cup back and finishing with a few quick swallows. When he brought his hand back down to his lap, John was grinning. “Sorry, I know we just got comfortable, but there are things to do, people to see. Up,” he told him, springing to his feet and waiting for Alexander to follow once again. He led them along the edge of the room, squeezing through various groups of guests, nodding or waving to a few people as they went. He grabbed Alexander’s hand a second time when it became especially packed in one stretch, but Alexander felt less self conscious this time, the slight buzz starting to run through his blood from his drink combined with the settling knowledge that everyone in this room was already too far gone to be paying _him_ any mind. And John’s hand was warm and soft, and his fingers were strong where they gripped his own, a subtle reassurance in the chaos around them. He led him through to another room– how many rooms did this house have?– loud with chatter and intermittent laughter and a slightly toned down volume of music still pulsing in the background. John, still grasping his fingers, pulled him towards the back of the room where a makeshift bar had been set up on a wooden table draped with a cheap looking table cloth that didn’t quite fit with the rest of the grandeur. John leaned against the edge of the table, knocking his fist against the surface twice to get the attention of a girl standing a few feet away from them, facing the other direction and absorbed in conversation. Her head whipped around, sleek, black hair fanning around her as she moved. When she caught sight of John she gave a wide, bright smile, then pulled him into a tight hug, dainty arms wrapping and squeezing around him for just a moment.

When she pulled back, she was still smiling, her hands gripping him by the shoulders as the guy she had been talking to disappeared back into the crowd. “John! I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” 

“Good to see you too, Eliza,” he said with a laugh, shaking out of her hold. “Angie here?” 

“She’s–” She turned around, a little too quickly, and stumbled on her heels, just managing to catch herself on the table before she fell. “Shit,” she breathed with a little laugh as she straightened up. She looked back in the other direction as her brows pulled down in the middle. “Well she _was_ right over there. She’s around,” she decided with a shrug. “Who’s your friend?”

Alexander stepped around John to get a little closer, physically insert himself into the conversation. “Alexander,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the rest of the noise. 

“Nice to meet you, Alexander.” She flashed him that charming smile as well. “I do hope John’s being nice to you,” she added with a pointed look towards him, but there was a teasing glint in her eyes. 

“Hey,” John responded, giving her an affronted look and lightly shoving her bare shoulder. “I’m always nice.”

Eliza hummed a little skeptical noise and took a sip from her drink. 

“Alexander’s my father’s intern for the summer.” John smirked as he said it, like it was an inside joke rather than a simple statement.

“Oh?” Eliza turned, looking him over more carefully. “What’s _that_ like?”

Alexander ran a hand back through his hair, unsure what kind of answer they were looking for. “It’s fine. It’s good experience, and it’s only a few months. It’ll look good on a resume.”

Eliza looked less teasing, more thoughtful, when she mused, “You’re not from all of _this_ are you?” She waved a hand around at the room in general, all of the kids of important political figures and the otherwise rich and famous. 

Alexander felt heat rise along the back of his neck at being called out on that truth so easily, but lying was pointless, and _why_ would he want to lie about that anyway? “Do I have family ties in politics you mean? Nope.”

“But you want to go into politics?” she followed up without missing a beat, leaning her weight back on the table, shifting some of the pressure off of one of her feet as she balanced there. 

“Yeah,” he responded, raising one eyebrow. Unsure exactly where this was going. 

“Good.” She smiled again, bright and sunny in a way that didn’t seem to blend well with the hazy glow around them. “I’ve been around politics all my life, and trust me, all the old men sitting around tables making laws need some outside perspectives to shake things up.”

“Yes, yes, he’s going to do very good things,” John said, draping an around Alex’s shoulders again. “But we’re at a party right now. No more deep conversations. Let’s do something fun.”

“Like _what_ , John?” Eliza asked with a touch of exasperation, cocking her hip to the side. 

“Like _that_.” He gave them two of them a huge grin as he turned and pointed towards a group of people. They were seated near the center of the room around a low table, a tall, elegant looking girl about their age placing a tray filled with shot glasses down between them as she laughed at someone’s joke. John hurried over, holding up one hand in greeting. “Angie, hey!” 

The girl whipped around, her curls flying, and beamed at him. “John Laurens! I thought I heard your voice.” John waved the other two over, so Alexander followed a step behind Eliza, and they joined in with the group as John and the other girl continued talking. “I’m surprised to see you here. I heard you had better things to do tonight.” She gave him a sly smile and nudged his side. “Better things that involved a sleazy club in a more questionable part of the city.”

Looking only slightly embarrassed, John breathed a short laugh. “Yeah, well plans change. I’m surprised _you’re_ not off at one of those clubs based off of the recent gossip.”

She smirked, perching on the arm of the expensive looking sofa beside her. “I wouldn’t be caught dead at a sleazy club, John,” she said, pretending to be scandalized at the suggestion. “I only frequent _high end_ clubs.” 

“Good way to accidentally get caught by one of your dad’s friends.” He snorted, glancing back at Alexander and Eliza. “Oh, Alexander, this is Angelica,” he said. 

She extended one perfectly manicured hand out, but remained seated. “Angelica Schuyler,” she said with a practiced air. _Schuyler._ The name was familiar. 

“Alexander,” he told her, accepting a firm handshake. “Uh, Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton.”

“So, what brings you here tonight, Alexander? Are you John’s latest plaything?”

Alexander’s face went crimson as he searched for an appropriate answer to that question while John tried his best not to laugh and twined a hand around his waist.

“Ignore my sister,” Eliza told him, rolling her eyes and moving to sit next to Angelica on the couch. 

“Sisters?” Alexander asked, turning to John for confirmation.

“Ah, yeah. Eliza and Angelica are Senator Schuyler’s daughters.” Oh. So _that’s_ why the name sounded familiar. One of the senators from New York. 

“Alexander is Henry’s intern,” Eliza told her sister, leaning her head against her hip and closing her eyes for a brief moment. “Just for the summer.”

“Oh, really?” She eyed him with more interest now. “That sounds like a fun time.”

Alexander snorted at the sarcastic tone. Tried not to read into the statement itself too much. “Yeah if your idea of a fun time is coffee runs and pointless busy work.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, running fingers through her sister’s hair. “Yeah, I did the senate internship thing with my father’s office for a semester one year. I’m sure he was easier on me than whatever treatment you’re getting from Henry though. Based on what John tells us, he seems like a real piece of work.”

“Alexander is here tonight to _not_ think about work or my father, though,” John told her, stepping closer to the table and the shots. “Is there enough here for a few extras?”

The grin Angelica gave him was devilish. “Yeah, there’s some extras on there. Didn’t want to have to go back for another round.” She gave Alexander another once over. “How old are you anyway?”

When he flushed red again and didn’t answer, she turned to John and gave him a delighted laugh. “Oh god, he’s precious. Keep this one around, would you?”

Eliza shot her sister a warning look and smiled back at Alexander reassuringly. “None of us are old enough to drink legally, if that’s what you’re worried about. There’s a reason these parties draw such a crowd, and it’s not because we have anything against the local clubs.” 

“Come sit with me,” John told him abruptly, nudging some girl on the couch across from the Schuylers to make room, leaving a tiny amount space at the end of the couch that Alexander had to assume was for him. 

He glanced at the spot, too small even for his skinny frame, and then back at John’s face, warm, inviting, waiting. Alexander knew he couldn’t deny him in that moment even if you wanted to. He settled in awkwardly, half climbing into John’s lap to fit, and felt heat tingle along his skin as John wrapped one strong arm around his waist, fingers resting innocently at his hip. He thought back to earlier in the day, the senator’s fingers brushing the same spot, teasing and denying him as he struggled to maintain his composure. _Fuck._ He could feel himself stirring just a little, and shifted to make sure it wasn’t noticeable. 

“So, shots?” Angelica had hopped up from her spot on the armrest and was now beginning to distribute the glasses to the group at large. Alexander watched as she balanced on heels that were taller than was probably wise for a night of drinking and wondered how someone could even walk in those _sober_. But she didn’t stumble once as she passed out the drinks, handing Alexander his last with a playful grin. He wasn’t quite sure what was in it, didn’t have enough experience to tell by the color and smell alone and there was no chance to ask before Angelica was calling out to all of them. “Okay! Three, two, one, drink!” 

Alexander followed everyone around him, tossing back the clear liquid in as smooth of a motion as he could manage. Still, he couldn’t help coughing as it burned the entire way down his throat, nothing like the delicious drink John had made him. But the burn seemed to relax something in his brain for a moment as well, and while his senses swam, he refocused on the idle noises of everyone else. The sound of clinking glasses. He leaned forward to put his own back on the tray and felt his balance shift for just a moment, his whole sense of self lurching sideways before he caught himself and sat back against the couch a little too abruptly, grateful for the steady presence of John’s arm around him again. He was pleasantly warm, and his grip tightened just a little as he settled in, so Alexander leaned closer, let his head rest against his steady shoulder as the conversation resumed around them. John’s hand slipped lower behind him, fingers trailing down his arm and resting at his waist, toying with the hem of the borrowed shirt. 

“This looks good on you,” he said softly, right by his ear. Alexander was close enough now that he could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke. “You should keep it.”

He felt his cheek glow warmer, but he wasn’t sure now if it was embarrassment at the flirtatious compliment, or the buzz that was starting to consume his senses as the alcohol from the shot flowed through him, or just the thought of keeping _John’s shirt_ after this night was over.

“I’m not taking your shirt,” he told him, leaning back a little so he could look up into his face, but the angle made the world spin upside down and everything went unfocused for a brief moment. 

“I have plenty.” John’s voice cut through the blurry mess, and he was able to focus in again. “It’s not a big deal.” His fingers dipped lower now, to the waistband of Alexander’s pants, tracing the spot where it met his bare skin. “Something to remember me by when you leave at the end of the summer.”

Alexander had been so absorbed in John’s face and voice and the feeling of those fingers that he had nearly forgotten they were still surrounded by other people. He lifted his head– slowly to make sure the world didn’t spin this time– and caught Angelica and Eliza watching the two of them, wearing matching smirks. Eliza at least had the decency to look away when he caught them watching. _Angelica fucking winked._ He straightened up a little, feeling more steady than he had a moment ago, but didn’t shift away from John’s touch. 

“Ready to dance yet?” he asked, leaning in closer to Alexander’s ear to be heard over everyone else now that he was no longer leaning against his shoulder. 

Alexander huffed a short laugh which quickly caught in his throat as John slid his fingers just past his waistband, tracing the elastic of his underwear. He shifted his arm now, making sure John’s explorations were blocked from everyone else’s view. “Not yet,” he told him, biting his lower lip and trying to calm the tension in his groin. Didn’t want to embarrass himself by getting a hard on in front of a bunch of strangers, but also didn’t want John to _stop_. 

“Then I guess it’s time for another round,” he responded a little more loudly with a playful grin. When he pulled his hand away, Alexander had to consciously stop himself from whining at the loss of contact. As John got up, Alexander crossed his legs to hide any evidence of how affected he was by the touch, watching as John recruited the help of someone else to get the drinks and then maneuvered his way across the room towards the bar. Once he was gone, Angelica slid into the empty spot, nudging the girl on the other side over a little more to make a more comfortable fit. 

“How you feeling, Alexander?” she asked, a light teasing tone to her voice and a smile playing across red lips. She crossed her legs as well as she got comfortable, the motion restricted by the tight press of her dress clinging to her thighs, and her foot nudged against his leg in the process. 

“M’fine,” he responded. He tried not to show his embarrassment at how smug she seemed as she took in his appearance. Wondered if she noticed how disheveled he actually was, and if she assumed that it was because of an encounter with John before the party rather than what it _actually_ was. The thought was almost funny, in a fucked up sort of way. 

Eliza came over to the other side of him, balancing on the armrest like her sister had done just moments before, knees pressed tightly together, and smiled down at the two of them. “So, you’re not from DC, right?” When he gave her a surprised look, her smile just widened. “Heard John say something about when you leave at the end of the summer. Going back home?” 

Damn, impressive hearing. “Going to New York at the end of the summer,” he said instead, dodging the question. “For school.”

“Oh,” she said, excited now and placing a hand on his shoulder for balance as she wobbled precariously. “I’m starting at NYU in the fall. Where do you go?” 

“Columbia. It’ll be my first year too,” he said, feeling comfortable enough to admit it now that he knew he was at somewhat equal footing with at least one other person.

“Our family has a place in the city,” Angelica said, extremely casual, as if owning multiple homes was _normal_. He supposed for people like this, maybe it was. “Eliza insists on living in the dorms of course,” she continued with a roll of her eyes. “But if you ever need a place to stay, during breaks or whatever, feel free.”

“Wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“You’re not _imposing_. I’m offering,” she clarified with a laugh. “It’s a big place, and with our parents either in DC or Albany most of the time, it’s empty more often than not.”

John came back then, putting one of the two trays down on the table. “Round two everyone. It’s Friday, drink up!” 

Unlike Angelica, he left the rest of the group to fend for themselves, though he did bring Alexander’s drink over to him. “Move, Schuyler,” he said, staring down where Angelica had stolen his spot. 

She didn’t, staring defiantly back up at him. “No way. You didn’t call dibs.”

“Are we ten years old?” 

Angelica didn’t dignify that with a response, so instead of further arguing the point, John smiled mischievously down at Alexander. “We can make room, right?” He wasn’t exactly sure what _that_ meant until John went to join them on the couch, maneuvering Alexander until he was _actually_ in John’s lap this time, his back pressed up against the armrest next to Eliza, but his ass and the bottoms of his thighs pressing down onto the tops of John’s legs, one hand gripping around his waist to keep him balanced. He flushed much more violently than before, hanging onto the shot glass for dear life to make sure none of its contents spilled.

“Jesus christ, John.” He could feel the heat in his face and down his neck, far too aware of other people watching them. “I can just _move_ if you want to sit so bad.” 

His grip only grew tighter, fingers digging into his side more insistently now. “No, don’t go. I like you right here.” 

Fuck. Right. Okay. He took a steadying breath, trying to calm his racing heart. 

“Hey, loverboys,” Angelica called from his other side. Eliza tried to cover her laugh with a cough. “We doing shots or what?”

“Of course.” John raised his own glass a little in acknowledgement. “Everyone ready?” he asked, raising his voice now to be heard over the general noise. After a resounding sound of confirmation, he counted down and threw the shot back, the crowd at large mimicking the action. Alexander followed a second or two later, his reaction time already growing sluggish. 

He felt John’s fingers brush against his as he plucked the empty shot glass from his hand and leaned forward to put both of them back on the table, the motion pressing his body firmly against Alexander’s lap, and it wasn’t until John gave him a smug grin, his other– now free– hand coming to run back and forth over the top of Alexander’s thighs, that he realized that the soft moan he thought he had suppressed as the feeling of John’s warmth pressed against him was actually audible. _Fuck._ He ducked his head against John’s shoulder, hiding his face. _How fucking mortifying._

But no one else seemed to have noticed. Or if they did, they weren’t reacting much. He wondered how many times John had brought someone to one of these parties, touched them like this? Found he didn’t care. It didn’t change the fact that right now he was touching _him_ , and those fingers brushing over his thigh, wrapped protectively around his waist, felt phenomenal.

In less than ten minutes Alexander felt the second shot start to sink in. The world around him was growing increasingly fuzzy. Not in an uncomfortable way, but just enough that everything was soft around the edges and he could focus on John’s touch without the constant worry that all eyes were on him. Because if _he_ was so focused on just the two of them after only three drinks, how the hell could any of the others– who seemed much farther along– notice the way John’s hand around his waist had slipped lower again and how he had settled much more comfortably into his lap, and how the arousal was stirring much more intensely inside of him now. Not urgent like before, but pleasant. Tingling. He leaned his head back against John’s shoulder, his back pressed firmly against his chest, and breathed a low, contented noise. 

“How’re you doing, Alexander?” John asked, low and intimate by his ear. Ran his fingers along the crease where his thigh met his hip. 

He let his eyes drift closed for a moment, breathing in John’s scent, the smell of his laundry detergent. It was still clinging to the shirt Alexander had borrowed as well, like a possessive brand, he thought vaguely. And god, the thought stirred up the need inside of him from a simmer to a low boil. He ground down into John’s lap a little bit, drawing a quiet, low groan from those perfect lips. “Wanna dance now,” he told him. The contented feeling running through his veins had loosened up his limbs and his inhibitions and he couldn’t believe he had waited _this_ long because all he really wanted in that moment was the feeling of John up against him, moving in time with the rhythm, the hot press of his body in the anonymity of the crowded dance floor. 

John didn’t answer with words. Just smiled warm, open, a flash of teeth, then pressed his lips to the spot behind Alexander’s ear, making him squirm both because of how good and unexpected the action was and because it got him thinking of those lips on other parts of his body. On _every_ part of his body. Fuck, he wanted this so bad. And John was willing to give it to him. 

After a moment, John breathed a soft laugh, his breath raising goosebumps along Alexander’s neck, lips still close enough that he could easily repeat the action, take another taste, take _more_. But instead, he brought his hand back up, pushing Alexander into more of an upright position, lightly nudging at his back. “You have to get off of me if we’re going to dance, Alexander,” he said with that teasing look glinting in his eyes. 

But instead of getting embarrassed, this time Alexander teased right back, growing bolder with his increasing lack of awareness of everyone else around them. “You could carry me. You’re strong.”

“It’s going to be hard to dance if you can’t even stand up.”

He huffed a petulant sigh, but climbed out of John’s lap, only a tiny bit unsteady on his feet. “Better?” he asked with a little edge to his words. He missed the warmth, the closeness. Ridiculous with John _right there_ , but he was aware he wasn’t exactly thinking rationally right now. 

John bit his lip, holding back another laugh, and nodded. “Much.” He stood up, bringing a hand to rest at Alexander’s lower back and guided him away from the couches and his friends. “Come on, let’s go dance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	6. Chapter 6

Dancing quickly turned into more than dancing. John’s hands around his waist, grinding into him from behind. Bodies all around them, everyone too preoccupied with their own drunken fun to be paying attention to the two of them, a forcefield of people protecting him from questioning looks. Everything was warm– the crowded, stale air, the sweat on his forehead, the blood rushing through his veins, pounding behind his ribs, John’s breath and lips on his neck. The strobe lights cut up the night into half formed, shaky snippets. Alexander had never gotten this drunk, this fast before. Everything felt just a little bit off. 

Everything felt perfect. 

The songs all blended into one another. Sounded exactly the same. So it was impossible to tell whether they stayed there for ten minutes or an hour, grinding and moving to the pulsing beat. Fingers, hands, lips, teeth all over. He remembered– more clearly than the rest of it– John’s fingers brushing against his erection for the first time, already stiff from the prolonged buildup since they had gotten to the party, and the even longer buildup from his day at the office. Fuck, he _ached_ for even that small amount of pressure. Pressed back against John and groaned loudly to show his enthusiasm, confident that no one else could even hear it over the thud of the bass. He couldn’t see John’s face, but he felt his lips twitch up into a smile where they rested at the back of his neck, his hair brushed aside so John could explore his skin properly, press kisses and bites and suck bruises that Alexander was _sure_ would be visible the next day. 

Alexander twisted in his arms, squirming until they were pressed up against one another’s fronts instead, leaning his forehead down against John’s shoulder, tracing his hands over defined back muscles, lower until he felt the perfect curve of his ass, firm and round and warm and _everything_ Alexander needed right now. _Fuck, you’re perfect._ It wasn’t until he heard John laugh that he realized he said that out loud. Didn’t matter. It was _true_ , and he wanted to keep touching, wanted to strip both of them of all their clothes and trace those freckles on bared skin and lay John out and absolutely devour him. Fuck, why did they have to be in public right now?

They were still moving roughly to the beat of the music, John taking the lead because Alexander had forgotten everything but his own name as he melted against him, felt the press and twist of John’s hips and _fuck_ those hips felt so good against his own. His cock twitched at the thought. 

John breathed a low, eager note by his ear in response, grabbed Alexander’s hips and tugged him in even closer, his heat electric at this proximity, sending sparks all along Alexander’s spine and short circuiting his brain until his thoughts were just a contradictory tug of war between _too much_ and _not enough_.

“John, _god_ ,” he sighed. It came out rough, his throat still a little sore from his earlier activities. Earlier activities with… fuck. That jarring thought was enough to pull him back out of his lust-filled haze for a moment, even as John ground up against him again. He couldn’t do this. No. _No._ _He couldn’t._ Everything up until now had been questionable, sure, but fundamentally okay. He had a grasp on the situation, knew what he was getting himself into. It was never something he couldn’t walk away from. Despite the illusion of giving up power, he knew he still possessed control where it really mattered. 

But this, _John_ … he didn’t feel in control. He felt as if everything was spinning faster and faster, and he was sure at any point it would all unravel. Nausea churned alongside the arousal in his gut, and he knew it wasn’t from the drinks. Fuck he _couldn’t do this_.

But–

Earlier, back in the office, Senator Laurens hadn’t raised any objections at the notion of Alexander going out with his son tonight. 

In fact– hadn’t he _encouraged_ the encounter? What had he said? _That Alexander deserved a night off._ And then, when John called, _that it would be rude to keep him waiting_. 

Did he want Alexander to go through with this? Did he _want_ him and John to… 

He couldn’t even finish the thought. It was too fucked up. 

But hadn’t he said earlier that he would do anything? Sacrifice his own dignity to gain the approval he so desperately craved? 

When John’s hand slipped down to grip his, to tug him away out of the crowd of sweaty bodies with a simple suggestion– _Do you want to go somewhere more private?_ – Alexander let himself be guided out of the room and up a set of stairs, down a hall and then John was knocking on one of the doors. When no one called out to signal it was occupied, he pushed it open, dragging Alexander into what seemed to be a guest room. Two full size beds, minimal furniture, and generic looking art on the walls. He didn’t get much of a chance to take it in before he was pressed up against the beige wall, insistent hands running up his sides and along the curve of his neck and tracing the sharp line of his collarbone underneath smooth fabric. And with those hands back on him, outlining every part of his body like he was something to be worshipped, he could barely remember why he even hesitated. 

When John leaned in and pressed those soft, perfect lips to his, he opened at the first nudge of tongue, melting into the feeling as John stepped closer, one leg between his, their bodies right up against each other now, Alexander’s back pressed into the wall. One of John’s hands came up to brace himself next to Alexander’s head, his other cupped the side of his face, keeping his chin tilted up for the correct angle to continue the deep, impatient exploration of his mouth. 

Alexander’s body felt like there was a slight disconnect from his mind, so it took a few minutes before he realized his hands were still down by his sides, palms pressed back into the wall. He wrapped both arms around John’s middle, fingers digging in at his lower back and pulling him even closer– fuck it seemed impossible that there _was_ closer to go– and moaned quietly into the kiss at the feeling of John’s shaft, growing hard and pressing up against his hip. 

When John finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavy. _“Fuck, John,”_ Alex said, his voice cracking a little at the end. He swallowed hard around the nervous energy and the ache in his throat. “I want– can I?” he asked, his own thoughts too disjointed to make any sort of coherent sense, but he dragged one of his hands around to John’s front, traced fingers lightly against the hardness that was starting to press up against his pants. 

John breathed a short, desperate sound. Leaned in for another kiss, rougher, more insistent this time. Bit at Alexander’s lower lip as he pulled away again and grabbed his hand. _“God, yes.”_ He tugged him across the room, pulled him down onto one of the perfectly made beds. “What do you want, Alexander?” John asked, voice dropping to something low and sultry as he propped himself up on his side. “My hand?” He reached forward, pressing his palm firmly against the bulge in his pants. Alexander bit back a whine as his hips stuttered forward. “My mouth?” He gripped Alexander’s hip and pulled him closer, pressed his lips low on his neck, the kiss quickly turning into more, sucking a deep mark into his skin. 

“Fuck, John. Please,” he moaned, squirming as the arousal coiled tight in his stomach. 

“Or do you want me to fuck you?” he asked with a mischievous grin, wrapping his hand around and squeezing a handful of Alexander’s ass while he pressed his own erection forward, grinding into his thigh. 

Alexander let out a filthy groan, wishing he had another drink in him because sure he wasn’t _sober_ but he didn’t feel nearly drunk enough to navigate this. Especially away from the pulse and crowd and energy of the rest of the party. 

In lieu of an answer he breathed a little needy noise and pulled John’s face to his again, dragging him into a deep kiss to give himself a little more time to think things through. Because he wanted this. _God_ did he want this. John’s hands on him, John’s _mouth_ , John _inside of him_. It sounded like absolute heaven.

But how the hell was he supposed to maneuver the situation when he wasn’t allowed to get off himself? 

John would be expecting to reciprocate whatever Alexander gave after all. 

He pulled away reluctantly, looking up at John with wide eyes. He could at least give himself _more time_. “Wanna taste you. Can I suck your cock? Been thinking about it all night,” he added with a coy smile. He may not have as much as experience as John in this particular area, but he knew how to stroke someone’s ego. How to say and do the right things so they’d _have_ to agree with him. It was a useful skill to have with his chosen career path after all. 

“Fuck,” John breathed, staring at him with lust darkened eyes. “Yeah, of course. What kind of idiot would say no to _that_ ?” He scooched up the bed, leaning back against the pillows– why were there so _many_?– and making space between his legs for Alexander to settle in. It was endearing, the earnest anticipation on John’s face as he leaned down and pressed a hand lightly against the top of his thigh. Alexander waited for just a moment, happy to let _John_ set the pace, to let him undo his fly and drag Alexander down onto him, fuck up into his mouth. But when John just smiled softly, pressed his hips up into his touch and gave a quiet, desperate sigh, Alexander popped the button himself, carefully tugged down the zipper and ran his fingers over John’s shaft, still covered by the soft fabric of boxer briefs. Relished in the breathy gasp from his lips even as he couldn’t help the nagging desire in his brain for John to take control. It would be easier to think through his next moves if he didn’t have to focus so hard on what he was doing. 

He tugged down John’s underwear as well, giving a soft, appreciative hum at the sight of him, hard and flushed and as perfect as Alexander could have imagined. “Here,” he said, shifting over so John could more easily kick his pants the rest of the way off. Once he was stripped from the waist down, Alexander climbed in between his legs again, placing his hand back on the warm skin of John’s thigh. He leaned in, licking an experimental stroke up the underside of his cock, impossible to tamp down the look of satisfaction on his face when John let out a loud, gasping moan. He leaned back a little to get a better look at his face, eyes fluttering open now, glancing down at Alexander. “God, you’re hot,” Alexander told him, ducking back down to press a kiss inside his thigh. “Want your shirt off. Want to _see_ you.”

When John’s fingers immediately flew to his buttons, doing his best to undo them with slightly drunken fine motor skills, Alexander dropped back down to his lap, taking his time to lick and kiss his way around John’s cock, covering every inch before finally wrapping his lips around his head and sinking down. It felt strange, being allowed so much time to work him up. Alexander had grown used to a certain sequence of events– a routine that didn’t allow him this much freedom to explore and touch and experiment with _giving_ pleasure. It’s not that his encounters with the senator were rushed by any means, but they usually consisted of long stretches of making _Alexander_ squirm before finally putting him to use. 

His own cock gave a shameful twitch at the thought of that morning, being bent over the senator’s desk, one hand keeping him pressed against the surface, the other slowly working a silicone plug into his ass. _Fuck._ He let out a quiet moan at the memory, lips wrapped around the base of John’s shaft as he nudged at the back of his throat. 

John brought a hand down twining fingers through his hair. When Alexander looked up through his lashes, he caught him watching with a hungry stare, pupils dilated with desire and the alcohol pulsing through his system. “ _Yes_ , Alexander. Feels so good, oh my god.” His fingers tightened, just a little, and Alexander gave an enthusiastic groan of approval. Let his eyes linger on John’s bare chest for a moment before closing them.

_Yes. Take over, John. Fuck, please, just take control. Fucking use me._

But he must have misread the noise as something other than encouragement because the fingers retreated. “Sorry,” he told him quickly. “I didn’t mean to… sorry.” 

Alexander made a short, frustrated noise, not wanting to take his mouth away from its task just to explain that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He reached up where John’s hand was resting on the bedspread, grabbed him by the wrist and stubbornly repositioned his hand at the back of his head with unnecessary roughness, holding eye contact all the while, trying to make it undeniably clear what he wanted this time. 

“Oh, shit. Okay,” John breathed, tangling his fingers tighter to grip securely in Alexander’s hair. 

He hummed a note of approval and bobbed his head back up to sink down another time, dragging his tongue along John’s shaft and feeling a slight tremble in his thighs. 

“You sure?” 

Alexander didn’t dignify the question with his obvious answer, because he could already taste the first hint of precome as John’s fingers pulled at his scalp, beginning to move with the rhythm Alexander had set now, dragging him up and pushing him back down. He wasn’t really using enough force to control the movements, but it was a start. Alexander amplified his own noises, wordless encouragement.

Before he had a chance to grasp what was happening, John had his other hand on his shoulder, gasping a rushed warning that he was close, and _fuck_. Alexander hadn’t had time to think his way out of his own predicament, too preoccupied with John and his cock and how good those hands felt on him.

John spilled down his throat with one last, gasping moan. His hand gripped hard at Alexander’s shoulder, but the one at his head was still gentle, so Alexander kept _himself_ held deep, stubbornly staying put through the shaky aftershocks of John’s orgasm, until he was sure he was completely spent and satisfied. 

“My god,” he panted, leaning heavily back into the pillows. “Fuck, that was incredible, thank you.”

Alexander didn’t respond, too wrapped up in his own restless thoughts. He sat back on his heels, trying to figure out how to get out of this without giving John the impression he was anything but interested. Because he _was_ interested. He wanted to do this again. With John. Desperately. Ideally on a night when he wasn’t battling these impossible choices. 

“Your turn to make a request,” he said, a little edge of teasing in his voice. 

Alexander bit his lip, shook his head with a grin. “Technically that _was_ my request. I asked to blow you, remember?” 

He laughed, pushing himself back up into a sitting position and swaying a little with the sudden movement. “Mmmm so that means it’s my turn to make a request?”

Alexander raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his softening erection. “You ready for a second round already?” 

“ _No_ ,” John said with another laugh. “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to that in a little while, but I want to touch you. Want to make you feel as good as you made me feel. Is that okay?”

“I–” He glanced down at his hands, pressed into his own thighs. “Can we get another drink first?”

“Hey,” John said, shuffling closer, a crease of concern in his forehead now. “It’s fine, you don’t have to be nervous. This isn’t– uh– your first time or anything, is it?”

“No!” _Not even my first time today._ “God, no. It’s just been a long day.” He felt his face heat up, mortified by the suggestion, and damn maybe he _did_ need another drink for this.

“I can help with that,” John responded with a sly smile. “Just relax, okay?”

Alexander took a shaky breath, and nodded. _Fuck._ _How was he supposed to avoid an orgasm like this?_

Fuck it. Senator Laurens didn’t have to _know_. How the hell would he find out about _this_? 

John grabbed his hand and led him to sit on the edge of the bed. He hurried to tug his own pants back on, then dropped to his knees and ran warm hands over Alexander’s thighs, fingers coming up to drag along the skin right above his waist band. “Want to take these off for me?”

Alexander scrambled to comply, popping the button quick as he could, allowing John to help pull his pants off the rest of the way and toss them aside. John’s hand came to the elastic of his underwear next, and Alexander lifted his hips in invitation- determined to make it easier to slide them off. The buzz of the alcohol and his long-building arousal rushed through his brain and heated his cheeks and made him almost giddy, and he was suddenly very glad that he had insisted on taking care of John first. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to move once he finally was allowed to orgasm after such a long, frustrating day of _waiting_. 

Hands came back up to his thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin on the inside, and then he nudged Alexander’s legs further apart, making room to slot himself snugly in between. Dipped his head down to nuzzle into his hip, soft skin of his cheek brushing up against Alexander’s shaft. 

He bit back a whimper, not wanting to sound too pathetically eager but _fuck_ it felt good to have someone finally touching him. He leaned heavily back onto his own hands, letting his weight sink into the mattress, and then– finally– John’s lips were on him. Soft and wet and warm and _gloriously perfect_. 

Alexander gave himself three minutes tops. 

It didn’t help the prospects for Alexander’s stamina that John was incredibly _good_ at this. Used his tongue expertly, teasing his head and then dropping down lower, hollowing his cheeks and setting the perfect rhythm. Fuck, he could teach masterclasses in sucking dick. Alexander felt his orgasm bubbling closer to the surface, and _yes finally_ , he let his hips pulse up in time with John’s mouth, getting closer and closer and–

The door burst open, the noise of the party from down below filtering up, and much closer the sound of giggling and hushed voices. 

John pulled off with a slick popping noise, and Alexander hurried to cover himself with one of the pillows. 

The newcomers glanced over in drunk confusion at the flurry of movement. 

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Even through the panic clouding his brain and the darkness of the room, Alexander recognized Angelica Schuyler, an unfamiliar girl hanging onto her arm, the two of them both clearly wasted and stumbling as they paused in the doorway, trying to catch up with what they had just walked in on.

Mortification crept up Alexander’s spine and colored his cheeks, overly aware that the only thing separating their lingering gazes from his own erection was the pillow he had pressed firmly in his lap. 

Seeming to finally get his own senses in check after the initial shock, John got to his feet, running a hand back through his hair in frustration. “Angie, get out! Find another room, for fuck’s sake.” 

“Yeah,” she said slowly, gripping the other girl by the arm and pushing her towards the door. “You should really lock the door next time.” Her words were slurring a little, but the grin she gave the two of them seemed aware enough. “Have fun, boys.” To compound Alexander’s humiliation, she gave another wink before following her companion back out into the hall. 

“Shit,” John groaned, turning back to face him. “I am so sorry. Did you want to keep going?” 

And this– this was the perfect out, wasn’t it? An opportunity to claim he was too ashamed of being caught in the act to keep going. A way to avoid breaking his promise to the senator without bruising John’s ego in the process. 

But _fuck_ Alexander needed to come so bad. He had been so goddamn close before that untimely interruption, and he was _sure_ it would only take another few seconds. And again, Senator Laurens had no way of _knowing_. What harm could there be?

He grabbed John’s hand, tugging him down so their faces were level, and crashed their lips together– the brief humiliation of being walked in on only fueling his arousal because _of course_ it did– and he was so _fucking_ close. He threw the pillow from his lap back towards the head of the bed and guided John’s hand to his groin, pressing down insistently to get pressure back where he needed it and– shit– it was glorious. He arched his hips up into the touch, groaned enthusiastically into the kiss, shoving his tongue past John’s parted lips. It was only when his noises started growing more frantic that John took his hand away, putting an inch of space between their lips. 

Alexander whined in helpless frustration. What _now_?

But, oh! Oh, shit. This was _better_. John sunk down to his knees in front of the bed, forcing Alexander’s thighs apart with hurried roughness, fingers digging into his flesh and sending sparks along his nerves. “Less of a mess this way,” he explained with a playful smirk before wrapping slick lips around his cock once more. 

As Alexander felt himself nearing the edge, all he could think of was what Senator Laurens would do to discipline him if he knew about this blatant display of disobedience. 

He spilled down John’s throat in a matter of seconds. 

And _fuck_ it was like fireworks after a day of so stubbornly holding himself back. Hot, overwhelming, blinding, explosive. Not nearly long enough. He tried to cling onto the last bits of pleasure, but he quickly grew over sensitized in John’s mouth. As soon as he put a hand on his shoulder, John withdrew again, leaning back and shifting into a sitting position on the floor instead. Alexander stared down at him with heavy lidded eyes, still catching his breath as the world came back into focus around him. 

“How was that?” John asked with a tone that implied he knew _exactly_ how good it was. 

“Shit, John.” Alexander leaned onto his palms more heavily. “Anyone ever tell you your mouth is absolute fucking heaven?”

He gave a little, breathless laugh, his curls bouncing with the movement, his cheeks still flushed. “Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Smug bastard,” Alexander joked, flopping back onto the bed and closing his eyes, smiling as a pleasant buzz continued to settle over his body, shielding him from the rest of the world and even his own overactive thoughts for just a moment. 

John hopped up next to him a moment later, kneeling on the mattress and running a warm hand along his bare hip. The motion felt soothing, comforting, and Alexander closed his eyes, content to lean into this for a moment. To pretend everything between them was truly this uncomplicated. Pretend he wouldn’t be back in John’s father’s office on Monday morning contemplating some unsavory actions. 

“Hey,” John prompted after a few minutes, his voice soft. “You’re not falling asleep, are you?” 

Alexander shook his head, regretting it when the world spun a little with the motion. “No, just comfortable.” 

John gave a light laugh, squeezing gently at his thigh. “We should get back down to the party. Someone’ll walk in on us again eventually if we linger too long.” When Alexander blinked his eyes open, staring up at him with a wide gaze but not making any move to get up, John traced his fingers higher until they were up underneath his shirt, caressing soft skin over lean muscle. “Come on. I’ll get you that drink you were asking about.”

Alexander gave him a sated smile and allowed himself to be tugged up into a sitting position. John kept his hand on Alexander’s and leaned in as soon as he was upright, gifting him with another searing kiss, capturing Alexander’s lower lip between his teeth as he pulled back. “We can get back to more of this later though,” he said with a cocky grin, hopping back up to his feet so he could collect Alexander’s pants for him. 

And despite the fact that Alexander knew he was already in trouble, another round sounded too good to pass up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break between chapters! We're back with more intern Alexander making poor life choices!
> 
> People who leave comments are literally the best in the entire universe <3 
> 
> Over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls if you want to yell with me over there


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the weekend, Alexander was an absolute wreck. 

He spent half of Saturday in bed, practically unheard of for him, too overwhelmed by the hangover still ruining his system and the crushing panic of what he had _done_ to force himself onto his feet. In the cold light of day, everything suddenly seemed nauseatingly clear. It was one thing to fuck a US senator. He wasn’t the first to do that, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. But _this_ whole situation? Putting his mouth on not only Senator Laurens’s dick, but then blowing _his son_ in the same day? Alexander had a strong stomach for unsavory shit– consequence of growing up the way he did and having the career goals he had– but even for him this felt like it was crossing some weird moral boundary. 

When John texted him mid-afternoon, he felt like he was going to hurl. 

Turned out to be more than a false alarm triggered by the nausea-inducing guilt he was feeling, so he _did_ hurl. It forced him to get out of bed at the very least. 

As he sat on the cold bathroom floor, head between his knees, he wondered what John would think of him if he _knew_. Would he still be quite so keen on staring into Alex’s eyes if he knew those same eyes had seen his father’s cock? Would he still want to kiss Alex’s lips if he knew exactly where–”

He scrambled onto his knees and over the toilet right as the fresh bile lurched up his throat. 

Sunday wasn’t much better. 

He managed to get outside for a short run at least, hoping the fresh air would clear his head. Instead it just gave him even more uninterrupted time to think about how fucked his situation was. As he scrubbed the sweat from the DC summer heat off of his body in the shower, he wished he could scrub away the uneasy feeling that seemed to have settled over every inch of his skin just as easily. 

He pulled out his planner– a little leather bound thing, a parting gift that Neddy had given him before his flight to the mainland that he carried practically everywhere– and started trying to map out his week. He checked his calendar app to add in any meetings, and noticed a new request for early tomorrow morning. From Senator Laurens. Of fucking course. He sighed and clicked “accept”, adding it into his planner as well and pushing back the time he had blocked out to go over the latest committee developments to ten o’clock instead. Hopefully whatever the senator had planned wouldn’t take longer than that. 

He didn’t sleep much. Couldn’t focus on any of his emails or other bullshit work either, so he turned on C-SPAN and tried to tune out his own thoughts while the TV droned on. He woke up on the couch a few hours later, and dragged himself to the kitchen to brew some coffee, praying the caffeine would be enough to make him feel at least somewhat alive before he had to head to the Hill. 

* * *

“You look tired, Alexander,” was the first thing the senator said to him when Alexander strolled into his office at seven fifty-five, a second coffee from the too-expensive cafe down the street clasped in one hand like a lifeline. “Sit.”

Alexander did. Dropped down into the chair directly across the desk and stared defiantly back at Senator Laurens, his nerves raw enough from all of his agonizing over the weekend and the lack of sleep that the little “danger” switch in his brain was functioning at an even lower level than usual. 

“Now tell me,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Did you hold up your end of our deal this weekend?”

Alexander kept his face as carefully neutral as he could. Took a slow sip of his coffee as he thought through his next move. _Lie_ , the little voice inside his head insisted. _He has no way of knowing._

“Ah, yes, sir.” He held back the urge to fidget in his seat, maintaining eye contact that felt almost suffocating in its intensity. 

“Really?” There was a mocking note in the word that set Alexander even further on edge, but he managed to hold steady. 

“Yes, really.” His grip around his coffee tightened incrementally. “I do have _some_ willpower, you know.”

The corner of the senator’s lip twitched up at the bite in his tone before he sighed and shook his head slowly. “Gossip does spread awfully quickly in the world of DC politics, my boy. Another lesson for you.”

“What _gossip_ could you have possibly–”

“One of the Schuyler girls walked in on Jack and my intern at a house party in the middle of what seemed like very… intimate relations. It does pay off to have staff who keep their ears open, Alexander. Mine are very accustomed to watching for any rumors surrounding my children that I may need to know about. In case I need to run interference, of course.”

Some part of Alexander’s brain, the part that was mostly suppressed so he could get through this conversation without wanting to fling himself out a window, noted that it was fucking weird for the senator to be talking so casually about Alexander going down on _his son_ . He had a feeling that would be added to his list of things to overthink later. But right now he just needed to get through _this_ conversation. “Okay, _fine_. I gave him a blow job. That wasn’t breaking any of your stupid rules. You said I couldn’t _come,_ not that I couldn’t suck a dick.”

The senator narrowed his eyes at Alexander, dangerous fire burning there already. _Fuck._ “Jack is far too considerate of a boy not to, ah– return the favor. Don’t lie to me, Alexander. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

Alexander flushed in embarrassment and anger, but the decided tone in Senator Laurens’s voice left no room to argue his lie. “You were setting me up to fail!”

“You shouldn’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, my boy.”

Alexander sucked his lower lip in, biting down hard to stop himself from saying anything to make this worse. Still, he couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed into a petulant glare. 

If anything, his reaction only seemed to amuse Senator Laurens. 

“What are we going to do with you, Alexander?” 

“Perhaps you could stop _toying_ with me and let me do my damn _job_.” The words slipped out without much thought, a byproduct of all of his overthinking from the weekend. He hated the way his stomach dropped when the senator raised his brows as if _considering_ the idea. Not because he _needed_ this. Of course not. He was only concerned because he had worked so damn hard at this for the past month, building this unlikely bond between the two of them, something _useful_ to him and his career. He wasn’t ready to throw it all away over something as inconsequential as the queasy feeling he got in his stomach whenever he thought too hard about what he was doing. 

So, when the senator tapped his fingers against the desk and asked, “Is that really what you want?” with that certain smugness in his tone that implied he knew the damn answer, Alexander had to take a deep breath to steady his nerves before answering. 

“No, sir. I’m _sorry_.” He said the word through gritted teeth, but he said it nonetheless. “After everything on Friday I just _needed_ it.” He didn’t tear his gaze away, even as the flush rose up his neck and high into his cheeks. 

“Then you should have made better choices to keep yourself away from that temptation, isn’t that right?” 

Alexander felt the corner of his mouth twist down in a tight frown, and he finally lowered his eyes down to his lap, staring hard at the little coffee stain on the lid of his cup. “Yes, sir.” 

“I think,” he said slowly, heavy weight of his words sending a shiver down Alex’s spine. “That we need to work more on your patience. And humility. After all, you will never learn if there aren’t consequences to your actions.”

* * *

Alexander wasn’t sure how long he had been under the damn desk, but it was long enough for several people to filter in and out of the senator’s office. _Reckless._ He knew this was reckless. If any of them crossed over to the other side of his desk, happened to peer down by the senator’s feet, the space in between his legs– well, Alex’s career would be over before it started and Senator Laurens probably wouldn’t fare much better, even _with_ all the power and influence that made this whole thing so intoxicating to begin with. 

Then again, Alexander had never actually _seen_ anyone cross over to the other side of the desk– himself excluded of course. It was as if some impenetrable barrier separated this space from the rest of the office, something sacred that the members of the senator’s staff didn’t dare encroach upon. Perhaps that’s why the body above him seemed so calm, so relaxed, while Alexander was more tense than he’d been in a long time– possibly ever. 

He blamed the state of his cock– stiff and curving up towards his naked stomach– on the adrenaline. 

“Doing alright, Alexander?” the senator asked once the door was firmly shut again, one of his policy staffers retreating back to his desk after a brief discussion on a bill proposal that would redefine the acceptable levels of various substances in drinking water. Not a particularly interesting topic at the best of times, and exceedingly hard to focus on when he was naked, hands pressed into the tops of his own spread legs, as he knelt under a desk in the fucking Russell Building, dozens of US senators and their staff inside these very walls doing the work of running the fucking country.

“Yes, sir.” He tensed the muscles in his thighs, rocking his hips forward just barely. Fuck. He wished he knew how long he had been waiting. His erection hadn’t flagged once since the senator had him strip down and tuck himself between his spread knees. Alexander caught little glimpses of his hands every once in a while– strong, large, capable of absolutely undoing him– and the sight alone was enough to send an ache up through his groin and high into his chest where he had to bite back a whine.

Even if this punishment was its own sort of torture, at least the terror of being caught and the constant ache in his cock was enough to distract him from the more concerning thoughts regarding Friday night. He let his mind focus on the sound of the keyboard above him, Senator Laurens’s steady breathing, and the occasional noises of someone coming in or out of the room. And of course on the tension clinging to every line of his body. He let his gaze go blurry and unfocused as he waited, every beat of his heart synonymous with the tick of a clock. It was soothing in a way– nothing to do but wait. Staying present. Soothing until another knock interrupted his focus and Senator Laurens nudged his foot against Alex’s knee as a reminder to stay quiet before calling the other person inside. 

“Ah, Thomas, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Alexander recognized the voice that responded well enough from meetings in the Senate Chamber. “Henry– do you have a moment to go over the breakdown of the votes for the committee meeting?” Senator Thomas _fucking_ Jefferson from Virginia. Alexander had never been a fan of the guy– he managed to be both pretentiously full of himself and smart enough to get most of his awful measures pushed through the Senate– but he was less excited than ever to hear his voice while he was shoved naked and horny under a desk in his boss’s office. He bit down hard on his lip and glanced up at the wood grain on the underside of the desk, praying he could stay perfectly still until Jefferson left. Unfortunately, all he really wanted was to _move_ , to release the energy coiled tight inside of him by getting some pressure where he needed it most.

“Of course. I have a call in about twenty minutes, but I’m free until then. Do you have any new information on the members that were on the fence? Richards? Lopez?” Alexander could hear Jefferson crossing the office now, and his heart beat faster with each step of what he was sure were stupidly expensive dress shoes on carpet. But, as he listened more closely, Jefferson seemed to be crossing over towards the sitting area. Alexander couldn’t stop the vivid mental image that flashed in his mind– Jefferson sitting on the same couch where he had been spread out with a plug stretching his ass open just last week. He snorted at the mental picture, just a quiet breath of a laugh really, but apparently loud enough for Senator Laurens to hear him. 

He coughed once, presumably to cover any of the noise, and stretched his legs out carefully, the heel of one shoe very purposely digging into Alexander’s hip in reprimand before he pushed himself back from the desk and stood, nudging the chair back towards the desk to hide the boy underneath more completely. 

He listened as the senator walked over to the seating area, dropping down into one of the armchairs judging by the soft, muffled noise of his weight settling in on it. Without him sitting at the desk, bracketing Alexander in with strong thighs and his sturdy presence, his intimidating aura keeping others away, Alexander felt more vulnerable than he had all day. He locked his jaw and tried to listen to the voices drifting towards him, but hearing Jefferson’s drawl discuss which of the committee members they had _convinced_ – bribed, blackmailed, etc.– to vote with them only forced his heart rate faster as the indignation about the _ethics_ of it all boiled his blood. Perhaps he was in no position to judge on ethics at the moment though… 

Jefferson must have said something amusing, because Senator Laurens laughed that smug, deep laugh, the same one that sometimes crept out when he had Alexander in a particularly compromising position, worked up and willing to do nearly anything for relief. His cock twitched in response, and his heart continued to beat too loud beneath his ribs as the color rushed warm and tingling to his cheeks. 

He bit down on his lip until he tasted blood in his mouth, the sting and the taste of iron a welcome distraction from the way he was about to jump out of skin with anxiety. He closed his eyes and tried to do anything to keep his mind occupied. Perhaps ironically given the building he was in and exactly what he was _doing_ in that building, the first, easiest thing he could think of was reciting the preamble to the Constitution silently to himself– still ingrained in a deep corner his memory from some dumb unit in eighth grade more intent on memorization than critical thinking– first in English, then Spanish, then French. When he made it through the third time and the two senators were still speaking– the tight feeling in Alex’s groin still distractingly present– he started the silent recitation back in English again, repeating the process in the same order until, _finally,_ he heard Senator Laurens loudly clear his throat, interrupting their discussion.

“Sorry to cut you short, Thomas, but I do have that call. How about we get together for lunch tomorrow and pick up where we left off?” 

“Of course.” Alexander could feel the tension starting to ease from his shoulders already. _Finally._ “Does noon work for you? I like to be back in my office before things really start to pick up in the afternoon.”

He could hear Senator Laurens hum thoughtfully from across the room. “Yes, that should work. If you have a moment to stop by beforehand, there is something I’d like to discuss with you in private.”

“Oh?” There was a note of clear curiosity in Jefferson’s voice, but Senator Laurens didn’t offer any details. “Alright then, quarter to noon?” 

“Yes, that should work just fine.” 

Alexander was slightly intrigued about whatever _this_ was, but the emotion taking precedence over all else was pure relief as he heard the two men stand, one set of footsteps walking towards the door, another coming closer to where he knelt, the sound muffled by the carpet, until he blinked open his eyes and could see Senator Laurens’s shiny black shoes come into view behind the desk, close enough to reach out and touch. 

“Thank you, Henry. For taking the time.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Thomas.”

The door closed, heavy and loud in the otherwise silent office. Senator Laurens didn’t acknowledge him right away, tapping insistently at his keyboard for several minutes, one foot frustratingly close to Alex’s leg, but not quite touching. 

After a couple more minutes of the silent treatment, Alexander couldn’t bear being ignored any longer. Hadn’t he _proven_ himself by now? Atoned for his slip up on Friday? 

Still unsure how much he was _allowed_ to initiate in these sorts of situations, he didn’t dare reach up and touch. Instead, he let the short, quiet whine that had been threatening to escape since the senator got back within touching distance of him out from low in his throat, a desperate, wanton little sound, letting every ounce of need bleed through. 

The typing stopped above him, just for a moment, but Senator Laurens didn’t pull back to even look at him. Made a soft _tsk_ noise and sighed. “I truly thought you had more strength in you than _this_ , Alexander. Sometimes I wonder why I bother when you clearly don’t take my lessons to heart.”

Alexander gripped tighter at his thighs, nails digging into the flesh. Felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes– whether from frustration or disappointment in himself he couldn’t say. “I’m _sorry_ , sir. I just need–”

“I know what you _need_ ,” he hissed. “The same thing you were too impatient to wait for on Friday. You have no _discipline_.” 

The word cut sharp, right into his stubborn pride, that spot in his heart that had always known that even with everything else going wrong, he would always have his unwavering ability to get done what needed to be done. Until now. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“ _I’m sorry._ I can do better, sir. I promise I can– I can wait.”

“Can you, Alexander?” The hint of mockery in his tone made heat rise to Alex’s face but he set his jaw and nodded anyway. 

“I can.”

“Very well.” That foot finally slid closer, not doing much, not moving at all now, but resting lightly against the side of his leg all the same. Touching him. Grounding him. And it felt like a token of forgiveness. He relaxed just a fraction. “Before that little outburst I was going to let you up from under there, but how about we go for thirty more minutes? I think that should be enough to get the lesson to stick, don’t you?” 

_Fuck._ Alexander dug his hands into his thighs again, focused all his restless energy on that warm spot of contact. “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been A MINUTE 
> 
> Luckily my brain is back in the weird headspace required to work on this story 😅
> 
> Please please please leave some comments down below– I need the encouragement ❤️


	8. Chapter 8

Alexander was pathetically behind on his work for the day. It wasn’t _his_ fault his boss had him under that damn mahogany desk for the first chunk of the day, but that was hardly something he could explain to anyone else in the office. To the few people who asked where he had been, he muttered a prearranged excuse, that he had been running an errand over at the Dirksen building that took longer than expected, running some ideas by a member on the finance committee. Knew he could bullshit enough about finance to bore people pretty quickly, forcing them to leave him in peace. 

He was rearranging some items in his planner, already accepting that he’d be working late tonight to fit everything in, when he heard a familiar voice in the doorway. “Val, he should _really_ give you a raise. You do too much for him. I hardly think it’s within your job description to be blocking out schedules for the family vacation. The vacation that I still disagree with being dragged along on _by the way_.” 

Alexander glanced up to see John, head of curls bouncing as he shook his head in disapproval. 

He felt his heart clench uncomfortably. 

“Stop being a little kiss ass,” Valerie told him with a laugh. “You know I have no control over that. Now, if you want to advocate for my paycheck to get a bit of a boost I wouldn’t _be opposed_.” 

John laughed, slightly awkward, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’d probably have better luck _without_ my help. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but dear old dad isn’t my biggest fan at the moment.” 

She gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back to the computer behind the front desk. 

“He should be done with that meeting in half an hour, kid. You’re free to wait around here if you’d like.” 

“Thanks, Val. You’re the best.” 

When John turned from the front desk, Alexander realized a beat too late that he had been staring. He tried to flit his gaze back down towards his laptop and the assorted memos on the work table in front of him, but John’s smile spread wide in recognition, and he was pulling out the chair next to Alexander in a matter of seconds. “This seat taken?” he asked, flirtatious pull to his voice and devastatingly handsome grin tugging at his lips, making his dimples pop in a way that should be fucking illegal. 

Alexander sighed. Another distraction was the last thing he needed today, but he glanced up at John and waved. “Hey. Long time no see.” 

“Don’t sound so excited,” he teased, pulling one of the memos closer to skim its contents. 

“Sorry, just. Stupid busy today. And I haven’t even gotten a chance to go make copies of _those_ ,” Alexander told him, waving one hand towards the loose papers. “I never thought I’d complain about having too much to do but _holy fuck_.” 

John smirked, bumping one knee against his under the table. Alexander’s heart skipped a beat, but at least his ridiculous panic from the weekend had subsided a bit in the face of the senator’s reaction to everything earlier. He had known about John and Alexander after all, and _he_ didn’t seem to have a problem with the whole situation. Didn’t hesitate to tell Alexander to strip down. To toy with him for a couple of hours. To finally pull him out from under the desk and tell him to touch himself while he sunk deep into Alexander’s mouth–

Well, he seemed fine with it. So, why should _Alexander_ get caught up over the morals of it all? 

“I’ll go with you to make those copies. I’m really good with the machines here. I used to use them to print out shit for school when I would hang around dad’s office after class.”

“Uh, I appreciate it, but I know how to use a _copier_.”

John rolled his eyes. Propped one elbow heavily on the table. “Just let me help, alright? I’d rather tag along with you on your bitch boy errands than sit out here by myself.”

Alexander held a hand dramatically up to his heart. “Ouch.” He glanced back down at the fucking memos. “But fair.”

John followed after him as he gathered the papers and headed towards the hall. 

“You look like shit by the way.”

“This how you flirt with all the boys?” Alexander snapped, his cheeks going red in spite of himself. He _knew_ he looked like shit. He hadn’t fucking _slept_. It’s not like he had intended to see _John_ of all people today. 

John flashed him that stupidly charming smile, and Alexander narrowed his eyes. “Sorry,” he laughed. “Just, uh, you do realize that sleep is a necessary human function, right? Like, your body will literally shut down if you go too long without it.”

John grabbed his arm to stop him as he almost walked right by the damn copier. Fuck. He really _did_ need more sleep. But the spot where John was touching him felt warm, and pleasant, and if they weren’t in the middle of the fucking Russell Building Alexander would be very tempted to lean into it. Instead, he took a slight step back, closer to the copier.

“Thanks for the biology lesson, but I’m _fine_.”

John shrugged, and he stepped back to let Alexander start messing with the settings. “I was thinking about you earlier,” he said after a couple minutes of silence. “All weekend really.”

Fuck. _Fuck._ Alexander was too sober and too damn exhausted to be having this conversation. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, tried to keep a neutral face as he started up the job. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Was wondering if you wanted to–”

“Shit.” Alexander cut him off as he quickly paused the machine, realizing the copies had started printing on some stupidly, obscenely long paper. Fucking stupid. Why did that paper even _exist_? Who the fuck _used_ that shit?

“The default tray is probably out.” John crouched down and pulled out the top tray, frustratingly correct. Of course he was right. Alexander couldn’t catch a fucking break today. “Paper’s in that cabinet right there,” he said, motioning with a tilt of his head. “Pass me some?” 

Alexander did, watching as John ripped open the ream and then started the job up again. The copies came out looking less fucking ridiculous this time. 

“So, as I was saying,” John started, leaning back against the wall as they waited. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out again?” 

Alexander pursed his lips, frantically trying to come up with excuses. Not because he didn’t _want_ this, but because John definitely _shouldn’t_. 

“There’s another party this weekend. Saturday. Or we could do something more, uh, low key. You know, dinner, movies, Netflix and chill, whatever.”

The corner of Alex’s lip pulled tight as he forced himself not to smile at how John actually sounded a little _nervous_ . It was cute in a way he wasn’t expecting. Fuck. “Sounds fun, but did I _not_ just describe how stupidly, insanely busy I am at the moment?”

John blinked, confused. Alex hated that he still looked handsome even when he was scrunching his face in confusion. Ugh. “You’re not planning on working all weekend?”

“I have some shit to catch up on. Some reading I wanted to get ahead on before the semester starts. Errands to run. Sorry, it’s just… not really a good time.”

John looked a bit put out, but shrugged, forced a grin. “No worries. I know you’re busy. If you ever need help with all of _this_ bullshit,” he said, motioning towards the memos. “I wouldn’t mind lending a hand. I used to help out after school sometimes, so it’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“No, I don’t need your help. I can do my _job_.” The bite in Alexander’s voice was perhaps more aggressive than necessary, but sue him, he was tired and his pride didn’t really allow him to accept help at the best of times. 

John sighed. Deeply. Shrugged again. “Alright. Well, just thought I’d offer. So, how’s my dad been today? I’d like to know what I’m walking into as I go for round two of arguing over my future.”

“Uh.” His brain scrambled to think of anything _other_ than the senator’s satisfied groan as he spilled down Alexander’s throat. “Seems like he’s in a pretty good mood actually.”

John raised one eyebrow. “Huh. Harry– my little brother– mentioned he’s been working late a lot. Must have been some breakthrough with whatever’s been demanding so much of his attention.” 

_Fuck._ Alexander took a deep, steadying breath. Willed the heat back down, away from his face. “Mmm, yeah. Senator Jefferson was in earlier. They were talking about some committee vote I think. Maybe some new development with all that.”

John nodded. “Yeah, probably. Nothing makes dad happier than squashing the latest hate crime bill or whatever the fuck they’re doing nowadays.”

Alexander forced out a half-hearted laugh.

“I think those are finished,” John told him, motioning towards the machine with his chin. Alexander hadn’t even noticed the quiet that had fallen around them as it stopped churning out copies. 

“Ah, yeah.” He scooped them up into his arms, feeling a little off balance as John continued to stare, those honey-colored eyes searching his own far too closely. “I’ve actually gotta bring these down the hall, so…” He hesitated, hovering a few feet away.

“Yeah, I should get back.” John took a step closer, then seemed to think better of it. Rocked back on his heels uncertainly. “I’ll see you later, Alexander?” 

He nodded, feeling his heart catch in his throat. “Yeah. See you later.” Before either of them could say anything else, he turned on his heel, quickly heading off down the hall. 

* * *

John texted him the next morning from the lab in Bethesda. A picture of himself, waiting next to some contraption hooked up to a little machine with wires. Alexander was a little pissed that he managed to look good even wearing gloves and a lab coat. Fucking unfair.

_JL: ugh I hate this part. gel needs to run for over an hour. i’m bored._

_AH: Aren’t you not supposed to touch your phone with gloves on? I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing but I’m pretty sure that’s cross contamination or some shit_

_JL: ...i threw them out are you happy now? i’ll replace them when i actually need to do shit again_

_AH: Go clean some test tubes or something, some of us have work to do_

Alexander nearly jumped when the door to the senator’s office opened. Senator Laurens gave him a quick once over from the doorway. “Alexander, I’d like to go over some notes regarding the upcoming committee vote. Come into my office for a moment.”

He glanced down at the time on his laptop before locking the screen. Knew Jefferson would be arriving for their lunch meeting shortly. So, this probably wouldn’t be anything incredibly time consuming. He let out a breath and stood from the table, following Senator Laurens inside and closing the door behind them. 

“I assume you’ve been keeping track of our efforts to collect votes for the upcoming meeting?” 

Alexander nodded. He hadn’t been _told_ to do so. Wasn’t even sure how much of the details he was really supposed to know. But nevertheless he _had_ been quietly keeping track as he watched various members of the committee come in for hushed meetings. Catalogued their expressions as they left the office, the senator’s mood afterward. Plus the snippets of phone conversations he caught whenever Senator Laurens had him under his desk, or bent over a piece of furniture or down on his knees in his office. If Alexander was correct, based on everything he had guessed and heard, they only needed–

“Two more votes– that’ll give us the edge we need. Unfortunately, we’ve been unsuccessful so far. I’ve narrowed it down to two members who I believe we can… _sway_.” There was a certain suggestive tone in his voice that gave Alexander the impression he didn’t mean well thought out arguments. “But it’s not the type of convincing I can do alone.” 

He kept his face carefully neutral. The senator had gravitated towards the window, staring out at DC, the light from a sunny summer day silhouetting him in a way that made it hard to read his face. He had never asked Alexander to do anything like this before. To help collect votes. To really play an important role in his politics. He could already feel the itch to prove himself forming beneath his skin, restless and burning. This was infinitely more important than fetching coffee and making copies. The fact that he’d be helping some republican measure get passed grated at him a bit, sure, but he knew they’d figure it out one way or another without his help. He might as well jump at the opportunity to actually _do_ something, get his hands dirty and gather vital experience that would help him later on. Still, he had to wonder–

“If _you_ can’t convince them, sir, what makes you think _I’ll_ have any luck?”

The senator exhaled a light breath, almost a laugh, and Alexander felt his annoyance sting even more sharply– he _still_ couldn’t see the man’s face properly. He took a step closer, but it didn’t help. “The methods I’m thinking of are a bit unconventional. But they do fit your particular _talents_ well, Alexander.”

That mocking edge creeping into his tone was unsettlingly familiar. Alexander felt his shoulders tense. Crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling uncomfortably small in the middle of the room. Vulnerable. “What are you getting at?”

“Clark has a particular fascination with pretty young things,” he said, blunt and straight to the point. “And Jefferson has a lead that Phillips is trying to keep quiet a string of affairs that would certainly ruin his marriage and his career if they were to get out.” He finally took a step towards his desk, throwing his face back into view, but it was infuriatingly emotionless. “So, we offer a trade to the first, and get evidence on the misdeeds of the other, and the vote is ours.”

Alexander balked at the implication behind his words. _No fucking way._ This was surely too far outside the bounds of his job description, even for _him_. Senator Laurens just waited, watching as Alexander squirmed. 

“Get your votes some other way. I’m not a fucking _whore_.”

Finally, the mask cracked– just a tiny bit– a smirk twisting one corner of his mouth upward. “This is hardly prostitution, boy– merely politics. If you’re not willing to get your hands dirty to reach your goals, perhaps you should consider a change in career path. After all, it would be a shame for you to waste years of your life in school for something you don’t have the stomach for.” 

Alexander bristled, paced towards the other side of the office– mostly for an excuse to turn his face away from the intense scrutiny there– but it also helped to get some of the fidgeting energy out through his legs. He balled his fists at his sides as he tried to _think_. Difficult with the intrusive mental image of getting down onto his knees for a stranger, trading away his dignity for a damn vote.

But it wasn’t really just for a _vote_ was it? He’d be getting more than that in return for his efforts, surely. 

He turned back sharply towards the senator when he reached the opposite wall. “And what’s in it for me?” 

His eyes seemed to spark with amusement. “Besides the experience of how politics _really_ works behind closed doors? This is what your internship is for after all. To learn the ins and outs of government first hand.” 

Alexander narrowed his eyes. “You can offer more than _that,_ surely. This is an important vote. And as you said, you can’t convince them alone. You _need_ me.”

Senator Laurens huffed a quiet laugh. “Perhaps you’ve been paying more attention than I thought.” The words lit a little flame of pride in Alexander that he would never admit to outside of these walls. “I can connect you with someone in New York once the summer is over. You’ll be at Columbia, correct? I know plenty of people in politics up there who’d be willing to take on a young student who comes with my pristine recommendation.”

“I get to see the letter of recommendation and edit it as I see fit,” Alexander countered. Didn’t like the idea of going into any new position not knowing _exactly_ what the senator had said about him. “And you’ll let me sit in on any meetings in the Senate Chamber.”

“Any meeting where you’re allowed,” he agreed, one brow raised. “Is that a deal then, Alexander?”

Alexander bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, jaw tensed and raw adrenaline coursing through his body from his toes all the way up to the heat in his face. He set his expression firm, nodded his head. “Yes. It’s a deal.”

Senator Laurens gave him a rare smile. “Very good. Now, since you’re so keen on attending important meetings,” he said with a mild note of condescension. “Why don’t you stay during my chat with Senator Jefferson? You can help deliver the good news. That we finally have a plan to acquire those votes.” 

Alexander swallowed, the motioned feeling rough and choppy, like there was something stuck in his throat. With a sharp nod of his head, he dropped down onto the couch. The silence while the two of them waited was stifling, so Alexander pulled out his phone. Before he could think better of it, he pulled up his texts with John, shooting off a quick message. 

_AH: Changed my mind. Offer to go to that party on Saturday still good?_

He had a feeling he would need the uncomplicated relief by the end of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH OH
> 
> Alexander. Honey. Baby. What are you doing???
> 
> Please leave comments below to encourage me to finish up the next installment 🥰 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr as well @thatwouldbee-enough


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